


Friendly Competiton

by No_One_Special_01289



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Common Interest, Competition, Crack, Denial, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, They've all seen things, Third Wheel Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_One_Special_01289/pseuds/No_One_Special_01289
Summary: Everybody knows Dean and Castiel have feelings for each other. However, they don't seem to know themselves. What would Angels, Demons, Monsters, and Humans wager to get them together?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	1. The Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely a crack fic, I wrote it as a side project after feeling burned out from a longer fic in another fandom, so please don't take it too seriously.

Every day, the Bunker provided the Winchesters with new surprises. Sometimes it was a hidden room. Sometimes it was a creepy exorcism tape. Today, it was the strangest pair of binoculars Sam had ever seen. In fact, Sam had a hard time calling them binoculars. It was a block of intricately decorated gold, carved in the vague shape of binoculars. The only indications of their true purpose were the four tiny pieces of glass, and the strap to keep the binoculars on one’s head.

“Cas, Cas, put these on!” Dean laughed, shoving them in the angel’s direction. 

“No Dean, I’ll look ridiculous,” He replied in a monotonous voice. 

“Come on man, please!” Dean was pretty much begging. Cas sighed heavy, rightfully, he looked very annoyed. But Sam knew he would do it. Cas would do anything for Dean. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. He yanked them from Dean’s hand and begrudgingly placed them on his head. The moment they were on, Dean doubled over, cackling like a hyena. Even Sam had trouble holding back laughter. Cas had been right: he looked ridiculous. It was like he’d grown huge, bulging, golden, insect like eyes with the smallest pupils imaginable. His stiff demeanor didn’t do him any favors. 

“Oh-my-god,” Dean wheezed. “That is the best thing I’ve _ever_ seen! Cas, you look incredible!” Sam bet Dean thought Cas looked incredible. If Sam had a dollar for every time he’d caught his brother checking Cas out, he would be living in a mansion, not this bunker. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas replied, still emotionless. Sam shook his head at them and grabbed the note from the box the binoculars had been in. He read the old, faded handwriting, and his jaw dropped. 

“Guys, listen to this: _Supirittoshia; English translation-Spirit Seer. This artifact allows the wearer to see the undead, even if they are invisible to the human eye. Helpful, but not worth all this bloodshed. This must be kept in the Men of Letters Bunker.”_ Sam read aloud. 

“Are you telling me these goggles let you see ghosts? Even if they’ve gone invisible-boy? Awesome! It’ll make our jobs a hell of a lot easier,” Dean replied, helping Cas get them off his head. 

“Did you even hear the last part, Dean?” Sam asked him. “People have been hurt over this Supirittoshia thing. We should heed their warning and keep it here.” 

“ _We should heed their warning and keep it here,”_ Dean mimicked in a demeaning tone. “Right, like a bunch of dickwads from a million years ago are going to keep me from doing my job better.” 

“Dean,” Cas said. “Sam has a point. I appreciate your wish to hunt more efficiently, but think of how many creatures might want to get their hands on this thing. How many would kill for it?” It was two against one, but Dean was persistent. 

“Meet me halfway, Sammy. We don’t have to take the magic binoculars on every hunt, how about...three a month! That’s not too bad,” Dean suggested. Sam knew taking them out at all was a bad idea. One step outside with that thing, and they’d be tracked like prey. However, dealing with his brother was like dealing with a child. Sometimes, they have to burn themselves to learn not to play with fire. 

“You know what Dean,” Sam said. “I’m proud of you for compromising. We found a potential haunting this morning, didn’t we? Why don’t we bring the Supirittoshia?” 

“Sam _-”_ Cas hissed, but Sam shot him a look that said _trust me_ , and he stayed quiet. 

“Don’t worry Cas, I won’t make you wear ‘em again...maybe.” Dean patted him on the shoulder, then retreated to his room to pack his bag. 

\----------------

Sam hated when Dean was right. They arrived at their motel from what might have been the easiest case they’d ever done. Not only did the Supirittoshia show you the spirit, it allowed you to know their name too! It was crazy how fast they’d learned the location of the ghost’s bones. Driving to the town they were in had taken longer than the actual hunt, and not a single enemy had popped up looking for the Artifact. 

“Wow,” Sam said as he threw his duffle on the shitty motel bed. “I have to admit it Dean, I was wrong. These binoculars might look stupid, but they’re the most useful thing we’ve ever acquired.” 

“When have I ever been wrong, Sammy?” Dean replied, plopping down on his bed and grabbing the TV remote. 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

Just then, Cas popped into the room. “I got the information you wanted on the history of the house.” He held a beige folder stuffed with files. “How about you guys? What did the current owners have to say?” 

“No need to worry about it, Cas,” Dean said. “The ghost, Sarah Pullman, is gone.” Cas’s face dropped. 

“What? How?” 

“The Supirittoshia is actually like, super helpful,” Sam told him. 

“Which means the rest of the day is reserved for pizza, booze, and daytime television.” Dean said. 

“You mean I stole this information for nothing?” Cas asked. 

“Afraid so bud. Don’t worry about it, though. You can come watch Dr. Sexy MD with me,” Dean said after flicking to the medically themed soft porn. 

“I hate that show,” Cas grumbled. 

“Consider it as punishment, for your utter lack of faith in me,” Dean teased as Cas dragged himself to the bed. 

“Dean…” Cas said, sounding guilty. “Of course I have faith in you. I was ju-” 

“Relax, alright?” Dean interrupted, uncomfortable with the sappy stuff. “It was a joke.” 

“O-oh,” Cas stuttered. Then, in an attempt to humour him, Cas laughed the fakest laugh Sam had ever heard. Dean seemed to find it endearing, he looked at Cas with the shiny eyes and bright smile only reserved for the angel. 

“You’re a dork,” he chuckled. This was Sam’s cue to leave. 

“Hey,” he said, taking the Impala’s keys from the table. “I’m making a beer and pizza run. Is pepperoni good?” 

“Yeah. Here’s my contribution.” Dean dug around in his pocket, pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill, and chucked it at Sam. It made it halfway across the room. 

“Thanks,” Sam replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. He snatched the money off the floor and made his way to the door; but when he pulled it open, he was greeted by three familiar faces. 

“Crowley? Benny? Gabriel?” 

“Hello Moose,” Crowley greeted in that slimy accent of his. 

“What the-how did you find us? Why are you all together?” A million questions raced through Sam’s head, but those were the primary concerns. He didn’t even know Benny and Gabriel knew each other. 

“Well Sam, word on the grapevine is that you’ve got something. Something we all want,” Benny explained in his raspy southern drawl. 

“Something the Japanese call Supirittoshia,” Gabriel said, confirming Sam’s suspicions. This was why he didn’t want to bring the binoculars. 

“What’s going on?” Dean had paused the TV and gone over to investigate. Cas remained on the bed, watching the door with curiosity. 

“They know we have it,” Sam said, and his eyes widened. 

“Shit!” He exclaimed. He saw Sam’s bitchface, and raised a warning finger. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I will slap you Sam.” 

“Woh, woh! No need for violence boys! Let us in so we can sort this out like gentlemen!” Gabe said. Sam huffed. Gabriel? A gentleman? 

Dean chuckled. “Sounds like the beginning of an awful joke. An angel, a demon, and a vampire walk into a motel room…” 

“How I’ve missed your sassy retorts, squirrel. So are you letting us in or not?” Crowley asked. Sam and Dean exchanged wary looks, but stepped out of the doorway. The only one they didn’t trust that much was Crowley. 

“Cozy,” Benny said as he glanced around the room. 

“Better than Purgatory at least,” Dean remarked. 

“You can say that again, brother,” Benny huffed. “And, hey! You’ve got your little angel friend! Hello Castiel!” Cas waved awkwardly. 

“So,” Gabriel said. “If I heard correctly, you were about to get pizza.” He snapped his finger, and a piping hot box of Papa John’s appeared on the motel table; next to it, two cases of beer. 

“Well then,” Dean said. “I’ll be taking my five-dollars back.” He snatched the wad out of Sam’s hand. 

“Humans, so bloody greedy,” said Crowley. 

“Dude, you’re literally a demon,” Dean said. “And you’re here to steal what’s ours.” 

“So quick to point fingers. And who says it belongs to you?” Crowley asked. 

“It _was_ in our bunker,” Sam pointed out. 

“You know where it was before that? Heaven! It’s ours!” Gabriel exclaimed. 

“It should go to the people who are actually dead,” Benny interjected. 

“It should stay with us,” Dean said. “We’re saving lives with it.” With that, the room erupted into chaos. The four of them were shouting over each other. At some point, the point of the argument was lost, and it became a contest of egos. 

“I’m an archangel! The most powerful being in the room!” 

“I’m the King of Hell!” 

Sam and Cas were the only ones not yelling at the top of their lungs. _The poor neighbors,_ Sam thought. He and Cas exchanged helpless looks, neither of them knew how to calm everyone down. Still, Sam gave it a shot. 

“For the love of god, everybody shut the hell up!” He screamed, tugging at his hair. To his surprise, it worked. “Why don’t we all take a deep breath, and cool down, this is no way to reach a solution.” The room filled with the sound of sharp inhales. “Great. Let’s sit down and discuss it over pizza.” There was no room at the table for all of them. So they ended up in a circle on the nasty motel carpet. Sam didn’t mind, he’d sat on the floor of Lucifer’s Cage before. The only ones who didn’t have a slice were Benny and Cas. Benny, though, had a beer in front of him. 

“I thought angels didn’t eat,” Sam said as Gabe took a big bite.

“Pizza is worth it,” he answered. 

“So,” Sam said, a wave of serenity had finally washed over the room. “From what I’ve gathered, every faction here wants these binoculars. Demons, angels, monsters, and us hunters. We have to come up with a way to decide who gets them without resorting to a yelling match. Does anyone have an idea?” 

Then it began: the moaning. Dean had taken his first bite of pizza, and his euphoric groans echoed through the room. They all gawked at him, too uneasy to tell him to stop. Castiel began to get very flustered. He turned beat red and fidgeted where he sat. All of them, all except Dean, noticed his change in demeanor. They all exchanged knowing eye contact. 

“Um, Dean, can you stop, please?” Cas finally stammered. 

“Sorry Cas, can’t help it,” he moaned with his mouth full. 

“It can’t be _that_ good,” Cas said. Dean gasped. 

“Are you kidding me Cas? It’s pizza! Wait, have you ever tasted it?”

Cas shook his head no. “I’m an angel, Dean, I’ve never had occasion,” Cas replied. Dean forgot about the seriousness of what they were talking about. To him, making sure Cas enjoyed the things he did, was always top priority. So many conversations between the brothers had ended because Dean had gotten distracted by such issues. 

“You’ve gotta’ try it,” Dean urged. 

“I don’t think this is the appropriate time, Dean,” Cas said. 

“It’s just one bite. It’ll only take a moment.” Had Dean forgotten there were four other people in the room? By the way he was looking at Cas, Sam suspected he might have. He took his own slice of pizza and raised it to Castiel’s lips. Cas, who was never going to say no, bit into it softly. Sam saw something heated flash in Dean’s eyes. 

Sam, Benny, Gabe, and Crowley all looked at each other to escape the tremendous sexual tension unfolding before their eyes. _Are you seeing this?_ All of their expressions’ asked. 

As Cas slowly chewed, Dean watched him with a pleased smirk. “Do you like it?” 

“I don’t know,” Cas said after swallowing. “It tastes like molecules.” Dean’s smirk faded. 

“How does that work? Gabriel tasted it just fine.” 

“That was Chuck’s doing. Angels of a higher ranking, like archangels, have the ability to taste. Anything Seraphim and below do not, excluding Nephilim,” Cas explained. 

“Interesting, but sad,” Dean noted. Just as Sam thought they were going to get back on track, Dean spoke up again. “Hold on, you’ve got a little something on your face.” There was a glob of sauce on the corner of Cas’s mouth. He didn’t let him get it for himself. Dean reached out and wiped it away with his thumb, sensually. That was it for Sam. Continuing the discussion was a pipe dream with Cas and Dean in the room. 

“You know what would be great?” Sam said. “Dessert. Pie, specifically, you like pie Dean, don’t you? Why don’t you and Cas go get some pie?” Benny, Gabe, and Crowley made a clamor of noise in agreement. 

“Why can’t Gabe just teleport some in, like he did with the pizza?” Dean asked. 

“Do you really trust Gabe to choose the right pie? I mean, he has to pick the best flavor, the best crust, the right structural integrity; and what’s wrong with supporting a local bakery?” 

“You know Sam,” Dean said. “You’ve got a point. Come on Cas, I think I saw one a few blocks away.” Sam handed him the keys, and they left soon after. They shut the door, and silence choked the room. Nobody knew what to say after what they’d just seen. 

“In all my years of Hell,” Crowley said after a minute or two. “I have never witnessed anything like _that_.” 

“I know,” Gabriel agreed. “I might need to scrub my eyes with bleach.” 

“At least you don’t live with them,” Sam said. 

“What? Are they finally dating?” Benny asked. 

“No, no they are not,” Sam sighed. They didn’t believe him. 

“Are you sure?” The vampire queried. Sam nodded yes in confirmation. “After the things I’ve witnessed, in Purgatory, I thought for sure they were at least banging.” Sam knew they weren’t. He would have heard things on the nights he couldn’t sleep if they were.

“If somebody could actually manage to get them to admit their feelings for each other, just so nobody has to witness such a depraved act again, I would give them everything I own, plus ten million dollars,” Crowley said. 

“I would give them the Keys to Heaven, and a free pass upstairs after they died,” Gabriel said. 

“I would give a memo to every monster, that this blessed soul never be hunted and killed in their life,” Benny said. 

Sam had an idea. 

“Meet me at the Bunker in two days,” he said. “All wards will be down. Bring, at maximum, two other angels, monsters, or demons, each of you. I have a plan.” 


	2. The Elephant in the Room

The first to arrive were Sam’s invitees, Bobby and Charlie. He hadn’t told them what the meeting was about. He only told them to meet him there in two days. 

“You better have a goddamn good explanation for this Sam, making me drive six hours to get here,” Bobby complained the second Sam opened the door. 

“Hello to you too Bobby,” Sam replied. Bobby grimaced and brushed past him. Sam wondered what soap opera reruns he was missing. Luckily, Charlie was there to give him a much warmer greeting. 

“Hiya’ Sam!” She said, giving him a tight hug. “What’s up with you?” 

“I’ve been busy these last couple days, you know, putting up with Dean,” he replied. 

She laughed with glee. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. Speaking of which, where is he? Is Cas here?” They walked down the stairs. 

“Uh, no, not yet. I’ve sent them on an errand.” To Costco. Knowing Dean, he would take hours to escape such a store. He trusted Cas to keep him from spending too much on their fake credit cards. 

“Why?” Bobby asked. He was close to them, he could tell when they were sneaking around behind each other's backs. 

“You’ll know soon enough.” 

Gabriel popped into view behind Bobby. “You’ve always been a vague one.” Beside him was Balthazar. Bobby jumped so hard his hat fell off. 

“Shit!” Bobby shouted. 

“Language,” Balthazar sarcastically chastised. 

“Shit fuck dick balls!” Bobby snapped back. Balthazar threw his head back, howling with laughter. 

“You humans are  _ such  _ a blast!” 

The next group to arrive were the demons. Crowley teleported next to the table where they kept the whiskey. As he poured the amber liquid, two dark-haired girls descended down the stairs side-by-side: Meg and Ruby. 

“Angels?” Ruby scoffed. “This party blows.” Bobby and Charlie shot Sam terrified looks. 

“Sam, what are they doing here?!” Charlie asked. 

“I let them in,” he admitted. “The wards are down.” 

Bobby turned red with anger. “What are you thinking, ya’ idjit? Do you want to get us killed?” 

“Relax, Larry the Cable Guy, we’re not here to kill you,” Meg assured him. “We were cordially invited by Sam.” 

“Us too,” Gabriel said. There was a knock at the door, it must have been Benny and whoever he brought. He ignored Bobby’s glower and hurried to get it. On the other side of the door stood Benny and Garth. 

“Welcome, did you have a safe trip?” He asked. 

“Garth was the driver.” Was all Benny had to say for Sam to know the answer. 

“Oh, well, now that everyone is here I think we should get started,” Sam said. They followed him to the main floor. “Everybody, please have a seat at the Map Table. Pull a chair from the library if you have to.” Sam waited patiently as people sorted themselves according to how much they liked each other. The humans and angels sat on one side, while the monsters and demons sat on the other. Sam stood at the head of the table. 

“What’s going on Sam?” Charlie asked once they were settled. 

“Recently,” Sam began. “An artifact has come into our possession. A strange pair of golden binoculars called the Supirittoshia. It allows the wearer to see spirits, even if the spirit is invisible. The other day, three of you came to me, arguing whether it belongs to the angels, to the humans, to the demons, or to the monsters. We weren’t able to come to a solution. But I believe I’ve come up with the best way to determine which faction will get the Supirittoshia.” 

They watched him with anticipation. 

“I think it would be best if we make it a friendly competition,” Sam said. 

“A competition? Of what?” Bobby asked. 

“I was getting to that. You see, there was an incident two days ago that made me realize something. The one thing we  _ all _ agree on: Heaven, Hell, Earth; is that Dean and Castiel need to get together; for the sake of themselves, and for everyone who’s been forced to put up with their endless pining for each other. It’s gone on for years now, and in my opinion, far too long. If you agree this is a problem, say ‘I.’” 

He was met with a complete chorus of enthusiastic “I’s”. Nobody at the table stayed quiet. 

“Great. Now here’s the challenge: whoever get’s Cas and Dean to realize and admit their feelings for each other, get’s the Supirittoshia for their respective group, because we all damn well know they aren’t going to do it themselves. For example, if Meg gets them together, the demons would get it. If Garth gets them together, the monsters get it. Is everyone understanding?” 

They all nodded yes. 

“But, some ground rules need to be laid out. I’ve been brainstorming over the last few days, and I’ve come up with a few. If anyone thinks of an additional rule for the competition, tell me at the end.” Once he was sure they were all listening, he went down the list.

“Hold on,” Crowley interrupted. He snapped his fingers and a long parchment appeared on the table in front of him. “Let’s get this in writing.” 

“I’m going to start with the don’ts, because I feel like that’s what we’re going to struggle with. Rule number one: No love potions, love spells, or any kind of magic that takes away their will. Rule number two: It goes along with the first one, but cupids are forbidden. Rule number three, this applies to you, angels and demons: No possession of them. Don’t hop into Dean and make him kiss Cas. Rule number four: Under no circumstance will they know about this contest. Ever,” Sam explained. 

“Tell me, what will the consequence be if anyone breaks these rules?” Crowley asked.

“Let’s be creative,” Balthazar said. “If anyone breaks the rules, they’ll turn bright purple so everyone knows. And they’ll be promptly banned from the game.” 

“I like it,” Charlie said. “Jot that down.” Sam waited for Crowley to finish writing before moving on. 

“Onto what is allowed. Magic is permitted, unless, like previously stated, it takes way their will. Second of all, teamwork within your group is allowed and encouraged. The more hands on deck, the easier it will be to get them to confess. If you have any friends outside of this bunker you think might want to join, that’s fine, as long as you outline the rules to them. Lastly, they HAVE TO KISS for the contest to be over,” Sam said. 

“What if they kiss and nobody is there to know who caused it?” Garth asked. 

“I have a spell for that. We’ll all sign the contract in blood, and when our love birds kiss, the paper will burn up, only leaving the name or names of the victors,” Crowley offered. 

“Sounds good,” Sam said. 

“Here are the finishing touches, aanndd...” Crowley murmured as he scribbled the last few words. “Done! Everyone, if you’ll look in front of you, you’ll find a clean knife and a fresh quill. Prick your finger, or wherever you prefer to bleed, then approach me and sign the contract.” 

One by one, they drew red ink, and signed the blank space under the rules of the competition. Sam felt kind of weird, signing a blood oath in order to get his brother laid by their best friend, but in the long run, it was being done for their happiness. Benny was the last in line to sign his name. Once he did, Crowley hovered his hand over the contract and whispered in a language Sam couldn’t understand. 

“The deal is done,” he declared. “Let the games begin.” 


	3. Deja Vu

“Dammit Cas no!” 

“Why not? You might just find you enjoy it!” 

“Because I’m not a chick, that’s why!” 

“Appreciating nature isn’t a bad thing, Dean!” 

“We aren’t visiting a flower show, and that’s final!” 

Dean cranked the rock music so loud it hurt his ears. Cas crossed his arms and glared out the window at the passing tallgrass. Sam sat as still as possible, dreaming of escape. 

When the tension began to simmer down, much to Dean’s displeasure, Sam turned down the music. “Where are we?” He asked. They were on the way to a case in Michigan. 

“Northwestern Illinois, I think,” Dean replied. That’s where they should’ve been by now. Even at night the landscape was...familiar. It was tan, and barren, and just as boring as when Dean had been in that area the last time. But this time around he had a non-busted up car, the ability to speak, and he hadn’t just returned from Hell. Dean rolled up to a stop sign, but when he hit the gas again, a horrible sound of screeching metal filled the air, and the Impala barely moved forwards. If Dean knew cars, and he did, the only logical solution was that his tires were out. 

“What the hell?” Dean turned the keys and got out to investigate. Sure enough, all four tires were deflated like balloons. “What the hell!” He shouted, only this time with outrage. Sam and Cas climbed out of the car to see what the fuss was about. 

Castiel had the nerve to roll his eyes. “What have you done now, Dean?” He asked condescendingly. 

“Some goddamn asshole slashed my tires!” Dean yelled, kicking the side of the Impala. This day got worse by the minute. 

“Dean, we were stopped for like two seconds. There’s no one around. How could somebody have slashed the tires?” Sam asked, trying to be a voice of reason. 

“What do you think happened? A rock did this? To all four wheels?” 

“I dunno’, maybe,” Sam said. 

“No.” Dean whirled around to see who said it. “Dean is right.” This man, he looked familiar. He was gaunt-cheeked, dark haired, gangly, and wore a suit despite being in the middle of nowhere. Most importantly, there was a knife in his hand. 

Realization dawned on Sam’s face. “Mercury?” It was the desk clerk from the Elysian Fields Hotel, that place with the minor gods. What was he doing here? Why had he slashed Dean’s tires? Dean didn’t care too much about those things. Mercury had messed with Baby. He was about to die. 

“You fucking dickhead!” Dean pulled his gun in a fit of fury, but Mercury was faster than bullets. He vanished. 

“Over here!” They spun eastwards to where the weaselly bastard stood, wiggling his fingers at them. 

“Oh that’s it!” Dean sprinted after him, and he felt the cheeseburger he ate for dinner jostle around in his tummy, but his grief for the Impala proved to be stronger. As he chased after the god, it was odd that Dean could _see_ him running. It was like he meant to go slow. It didn’t bother Dean too much, he figured it gave him a better chance of catching the guy. Still, he was a hair too quick. Dean was led on a wild goose chase, and at a certain point, he knew he was never gonna win, but he was too far along to give up. He was led down many different roads for so long, he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. They reached an intersection, and Mercury disappeared. Had he gotten bored of stringing Dean along? Or had he brought Dean as far as he wanted to go? 

“Dean!” Cas had managed to locate him and fly to him. “What were you trying to do? The greek god Mercury is the epitome of speed!” Dean couldn’t answer him. He was heaving, gasping for air, and trying not to fall over from the burn in his legs. Cas watched him with furious eyes. 

“He...fucked...with...my...car…” Dean managed to pant after two full minutes. 

“Well, it’ll be nearly impossible for Sam to find us now. The path Mercury led you on was like a maze, Sam would have to guess the correct turn five times if he wanted to get to us. Nice going,  _ Dean _ ,” Cas sassed. 

“And he’ll never get the chance.” A deep, scary voice said. All around them, people began to emerge from the trees. They wore ski masks, every single one of them. But the man who had spoken flashed his vampiric fangs. “You better start running again, boys.” 

Only one of the streets wasn’t blocked by vampires. Dean sort of forgot Cas could fly, and ran off again; the chaser became the chased. This time, Cas ran with him. Every time they came across a four way stop, more monsters came lurking from the shadows to block every path but one. It was like they were trying to guide them somewhere. 

“There!” Way down the road, Dean saw shelter. It was a shabby old rest stop, but it was better than nothing. Dean glanced over his shoulder at the mob behind him, if they could shut the door in time, then maybe they would live for longer than five minutes. They picked up the speed, and almost broke the door off its hinges they rammed into it with such force. Dean scrambled for the lock, but the one on the inside was busted. They were doomed, Dean thought, but things didn’t end up as predicted. The head vampire slammed into the door, but he didn’t open it. He never even tried. He used a rope to tie the door and trap them from the outside. The vampire stepped back from the door and regrouped with his friends. 

“Huh?” Dean breathed. 

“That’s peculiar,” Cas noted. 

“Thanks Captain Obvious,” Dean quipped. 

“We are not on a boat! I am not a captain!” 

Dean's eyes rolled so far back, he swore he could see his brains. He took one step away from the door, and heard crunching noises beneath his feet. Scattered across the floor were the glinting shards of broken glass, likely from the shattered windows. That wasn’t the only odd thing about the place. For some reason, the only lighting was candles, and romantic jazz music played from a radio near the cash register. The only plausible explanation was that teens had been in there making out or something. 

“Get us out of here,” Dean said. Cas rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and made a face like he was constipated. 

“I-I can’t. There’s warding on the outside of this gas station. My powers are useless,” he said. 

“Well that’s just fan-friggin-tastic!” Dean complained. 

“It’s not my fault we ran into this rest stop,” Cas snapped. 

“When did I say it was your fault?” He asked with irritation. 

“Your tone implied it,” said Cas. 

“No it did not! You know what, who cares? We have to get out of here,” Dean said, walking over to the closest window. A handful of monsters lurked around the building, keeping guard. Dean wondered if their strategy was to wait them out. At this rate, Dean would much rather face bloodthirsty creatures than deal with Castiel. 

“Hold on,” Cas said. “I recognize this place.” 

“Good for you,” Dean said, thick with sarcasm. 

“This is where I first tried speaking to you after I freed you from Hell,” he said. He was over the petty jabs. Dean looked around the disorganized gas station, and scolded himself for not noticing earlier. 

“Oh,” he said. His anger at Cas began to melt away. How could he stand in such an important place for them, and be mad? This was where it all began. Five years ago. All the memories he’d made with Castiel, the good, the bad, came flooding. The big ones, like reuniting with him in Purgatory, the first honest conversation they’d had on the park bench, hunting Raphael, watching him drown in the lake. He remembered the little ones too. Like finding it so funny when he couldn’t stop eating burgers, his goofy smile when he’d told them he wanted to be a hunter, the first time he looked at Cas and felt the weird tightness in his chest that only Cas made him feel. 

Dean got mad again; mad that teenagers were using such a special place to have sex.  “Tell you what, I don’t think the vampires guarding the door will budge soon. I’m gonna get some water, I’m parched.” 

\-----------

“What time is it?” Dean asked. 

“One am,” Cas said. They sat against the freezer section, their legs centimeters away from each other. He had been right. The monsters hadn’t budged for an hour. Dean had tried calling Sam, multiple times, but the service was nada. He and Castiel sat in comfortable silence as Dean tried to get rest. However, he couldn’t, not with Cas right there. His mind was sleepy, but his body wanted to stay awake and be with his friend as long as possible. 

“When I was five,” Dean said after ten minutes of trying and failing to sleep. “My mom and I went on vacation to St. Louis. I wanted to go to the zoo, but she was seven months pregnant with Sammy, so we had to find something less strenuous. In hotels, the nice ones, they have these brochures that list a whole bunch of tourist attractions in the area. I spent so long pouring through them to find something that would make her happy. We ended up going to a flower show; the only one I’ve been to in my entire life.” 

“I didn’t know that Dean,” Cas said, looking at him through apologetic eyes. “I would not have asked to go if I did.” He was so caring, so respectful of Dean’s feelings. Dean felt bad, all he wanted was to experience what Earth had to offer, he’d been stuck in heaven so long, he deserved to. Dean wasn’t going to rain on his parade, not any longer. 

“Cas, if you want to go to a flower show, Sam and I would be happy to take you. Besides, a daisy would look great in Sam’s hair.” 

Cas laughed, genuinely. Dean’s chest swelled with pride. He reached up and touched the shoulder where Cas had left the hand print. This was a moment where he wished it was still there. He rested his hand there, and at long last, drifted to sleep. 

*********

Somehow, after an hour of searching, Sam stumbled across the gas station. He’d driven down so many roads, backtracked so many times, but once he found the rest stop it was obvious that's where they were. A swarm of monsters guarded it. 

“Hey!” Sam shouted, approaching with a machete and silver knife. “Fight me you-” Two of them approached him. “Benny, Gordon Walker?” It all made sense now. This was part of the competition. 

“Aw Sam, why’d you have to ruin our fun?” Gordon asked. 

“Because, you terrorized my brother and best friend, then trapped them in a gas station! That’s why!” He exclaimed. 

“But it ain’t against the rules? Ain’t it? The fear of death makes you admit to your deepest, darkest, secrets,” Benny said. 

“No, it’s not against the rules, but it isn’t right! And why did you choose this place anyways? It’s not exactly the pinnacle of romantic locations,” Sam wondered. 

“Don’t you do your research Sam? This is where Dean and Castiel had their first interaction. We used the sentimental value, set the mood, and made it the most romantic place they’ll ever see,” Gordon explained. When Dean had first returned from Hell, Sam remembered him talking about a high pitched noise at a gas station. This was it, this was the one. 

“I have to hand it to you, using this gas station was a smart idea. However the way you did it, cost you your first attempt. Benny, you of all people should know that being stuck together in a life or death situation won’t make them confess anything. I’m betting that contract is still intact, and you monsters are nowhere closer to getting the Supirittoshia. Now, I’m going to go rescue them. I suggest you disappear,” Sam said. The cocky grin on Benny’s face dropped. He knew Sam was right. 

“Alright guys!” He shouted to his teammates. “Showtime’s over!” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “This won’t be the last you see of us monsters. You can bet on that, Sam.” And Benny retreated into the forest with the rest. 

Sam cut the rope on the door with the machete, and peaked inside to see how Gordon and Benny had “set the mood.” It made him want to burst out laughing. Candles? Sexy jazz music? Sam would bet a hundred dollars Dean thought teenagers were using it to hook up. 

“Dean, wake up, Sam is here!” He heard grumbles of protest, but eventually, they showed themselves. Dean was rubbing his tired eyes. 

“Man, this is one night I’ll never forget,” Dean rasped. 

“What’s with all the candles?” Sam asked, trying to sound clueless. 

“Horny kids, probably,” Dean yawned. 

“Probably. So, did anything happen while I was gone?” Sam had to know if Benny had won. 

“Not really. We’re taking Cas to a flower show sometime soon, though.” Dean mumbled. Nope; nothing had happened. If it had, Dean would be way more awake. 

“OK, sleepy head. Why don’t I drive the rest of the way so you don’t fall asleep at the wheel,” Sam suggested. They climbed into the Impala, and drove off into the night. 


	4. Burning Up For You Baby

Sam had forgotten to put the warding back up. Crowley, a clever man, decided to use this to his advantage. He liked to think he knew Dean more than the average demon. Dean’s biggest weakness was his love of things that stimulated his senses: food, music, and most of all, sex. For this reason, Crowley believed their undeniable lust for each other was the key to triumph. If Crowley could push all the right buttons, Dean’s willpower would be no match for his uncontrollable desire. He would be waist deep in the throes of heavenly pleasure by the time Crowley was done, there was no doubt in his mind. 

Crowley made sure he was invisible, and teleported into the Bunker. Dean and Cas were easy to find. They sat across from each other in the library. Dean was scrolling on a laptop, and Cas was nose deep in a book. It was quiet, intimate, and perfect. As Crowley approached their table, he could already sense the sexual tension in the air. Every so often, Cas would look up from his enochian text and peer at Dean with dilated pupils. He would return to reading, then Dean would glance at Cas, and his tongue would dart across his lips. Sometimes they would catch each other, blush like schoolgirls, and pretend it never happened. The groundwork was laid, all Crowley needed to do was tip the first domino. But what would do the trick? 

“Damn,” Dean muttered to himself. “I think my laptop is overheating.”

Bingo. 

The average body temperature of an angel was around thirty-eight degrees celsius; with the twist of his wrist, Crowley raised Castiel’s to forty-five. It wouldn’t be pleasant for Cas, but he would survive. Crowley took a seat in one of their leather armchairs, it was a waiting game now. About a minute later, Cas was already beginning to sweat. He wiped his forehead, and the droplets began to wet the pages of his book. 

“Dean,” he huffed. “Are you feeling that?” He began to fan himself with his shirt. Dean looked up with a confused expression. 

“Feeling what?” 

“Nothing, pay me no attention,” Cas said, he attempted to continue reading like normal, but he couldn’t sit still for the life of him. Dean had done the opposite of what he’d asked. He was paying full attention to Cas now. 

“You alright? You’re lookin’ a bit overheated,” Dean said with audible concern. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just so _hot_ in here,” he panted. Dean swallowed hard, the confused expression transformed into something else, something flustered. 

“M-maybe it’s that heavy trench coat you’re wearing,” Dean stuttered. 

“That’s bizarre. It’s never caused this problem before. But you’re right, Dean, I should take it off, it may help.” Cas peeled off the tan jacket, revealing the well fitted suit underneath. Crowley had hit the jackpot, nobody wore more layers than Castiel. He was perfect for a drawn out striptease. Dean forced himself to focus on his computer again now that the problem was supposedly gone. Crowley let them simmer a bit. He let Dean’s mind begin to race with the dirty thoughts he was so obviously thinking, but he couldn’t hold off too long, or Castiel’s body would adjust to the temperature. Crowley waved his wrist again. Cas was at a whopping forty-eight degrees. 

Cas forgot about his book. He leaned back in his chair and practically tore off his blazer. “You really don’t feel this heat, Dean?” He panted. Oh Dean was feeling it alright. He disregarded his computer in favor of watching Cas like a dog watched its master prepare dinner. 

“No,” Dean rasped, his voice was completely dry. _What a liar,_ Crowley thought to himself. His lips were parted, his eyes were blown with lust, and his legs couldn’t stop moving under the table. To be fair, Cas was a sight to behold. His white undershirt clung to his lean, but muscular torso, his dark hair was dripping with sweat, and his skin was shiny with moisture. He looked like he’d gone into a sauna and forgotten to get undressed; or like he’d had a long session of love making on the most humid night of summer. “Listen, I think you should go take a cold shower or something.” 

“I can’t take a break from this research, it’s too important,” Cas replied. “But, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I’d like to unbutton my shirt.” Crowley wanted to believe that Cas knew what Dean was thinking, and that he was purposely teasing him, but the angel was so naive about sex, Crowley doubted it. 

Dean, having quite the brain malfunction, gave Cas an answer. “Yeah. No. Go ahead.” He sputtered. After unraveling his tie, Cas undid his shirt at a tantalizing pace, revealing smooth, pale skin, and dozens of battle scars. As Dean watched, he bit his lip and breathed so heavy Crowley thought he might need an inhaler. At this point, Dean didn’t hide the fact he was staring, and he didn’t hide the fact he enjoyed what he saw. He clutched the sides of his laptop so hard, his knuckles were white. 

“Fucking hell, Cas,” he blurted. He took a quick glance at his lap, and took a deep breath. “I have to go.” 

“Where? What about the research?” 

“I’ll do it in my room. Alone. Or maybe I’ll take a shower. Who knows.” 

“That’s fair. I can see how my affliction might be distracting. I apologize,” Cas said. 

“No Cas, it’s not your fault. I’ll-uh-see you around.” Dean shot up, he used his laptop as a shield, and dashed from the room. The moment he was gone, Crowley cursed under his breath. So close, he had been so close! But he’d underestimated Dean’s self control, and the fact that Castiel was a bloody angel of the lord (aka virgin). Crowley waved his hand, returning Cas to a normal temperature. Cas sighed in relief, and leaned back in his chair. 

“Oh my god! Cas!” Sam, lucky him, came in immediately after the show had ended. Sparing him from trauma was Crowley’s one good act of the day. “Are you OK? You look like you’re about to die!” 

Crowley strutted across the room and whispered into his ear. “These two are harder to crack than I thought.” Then zapped himself out of there. 


	5. Green Eyed Monster

“I’ll get it!” Dean called. He hurried up the stairs to greet whoever had pounded at the door. Sam paid no attention, if anything, it was just Bobby or Ellen or Charlie or something. “How did you get this address?” Dean asked whoever it was. A pit formed in Sam’s stomach. He snapped his head up to see who it was. 

“Oh Dean, you’re so hospitable, aren’t you?” Balthazar and Gabriel stood in the entrance holding two large buckets of KFC and a case of beer. This was about the competition. Sam cussed internally, his plan was nowhere near complete, and Gabriel was a great manipulator. Then again, Crowley was too, and whatever the hell he did failed. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked with a tense jaw. 

“What? We can’t drop by and see our favorite hellraising brothers?” Gabriel flashed the phoniest grin Sam had ever seen. 

“You’ve never done it before,” Cas said. He sat across from Sam. 

“Exactly! Which is why we should sit down, eat some chicken, and catch up!” Gabe said. 

“The chicken does smell good, when’s the last time we had KFC Sam?” Dean asked. 

“Two weeks ago. You ate half the bucket, and stole all the skin off of one of mine,” Sam said. 

“It sounds like you need to make up for the lost chicken skin, Sam,” said Balthazar.

“Hey Dean,” Cas chimed in. “They have your favorite beer.” 

Dean’s eyes melted at him. “You remembered?” With his back turned, the two meddling angels slipped inside and made their way down. Gabriel set the buckets down on the table, and Balthazar sat next to Cas. As they did this, Sam tried to figure out what their game plan was. Had they put something in the chicken? Gabriel sat next to Balthazar. Dean went around the table to sit by Sam, but Gabe had something to say about it. 

“Come on, Deanie, sit by me, I don’t bite.” Dean scowled at the nickname. He wasn’t given a choice. Gabriel grabbed his hand and forced him into the chair next to him. It was awkward for Sam to be alone on one side of the table, and for the otherside to be so cramped. “Let’s dig in.” 

\--------

Halfway through the meal, and the two were acting as normal as Gabriel and Balthazar could be. They were both great conversationalists, they made Dean laugh on multiple occasions. Sam was at a loss. He knew, he just knew they had an angle, but for the life of him he couldn’t see it. Balthazar was telling some story about him and Cas from way back when. 

“I swear, the Athenian had no bloody clue what hit him. He was butt naked in front of the whole amphitheatre. Funniest moment from Ancient Greece by far! We really are the  _ best  _ of friends, aren’t we Castiel?” He looped his arm through Cas’s elbow, and began to rub his bicep in a slow, methodical way. Dean saw this, and took a quick swig of beer. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Do you remember what the garrison used to call you? That funny little nickname?” 

“Balthazar, no,” Cas warned. His cheeks burned magenta. 

“We used to call him ‘Hot-wings’. With your old vessel, I didn’t really get it, but my oh my you’ve grown into the name.” He leered at Cas’s arms. “Say, have you been working out, Hot-wings?” 

“No, I’m an angel, I don’t work out, neither do you Balthazar,” Castiel answered. If Balthazar knew how to read Dean’s anger level like Sam did, he would be afraid for his life. The fact that Cas hadn’t picked up on the flirting and rejected Balthazar made it worse. Dean was staring at them with a cold, murderous twitch in his eye, he gripped his bottle so hard Sam was scared it might break. They were going for jealousy; with Dean, that was a perilous road to take, but if they played it right, it was one of the best methods to win the contest. Sam had to stop it. He wanted those damn goggles. 

Out of nowhere, Gabriel got out of his seat, and plopped himself into Dean’s lap. “Is that a new flannel?” He asked, playing with the collar of his plaid jacket. “It looks so good on you.” Dean was too shocked to shove him off. Gabriel stroked the hair on the nape of Dean’s neck, and eyed Cas to see what his reaction was. It was very rare Cas showed his envy. Sometimes, if all three of them were at a bar, and Dean went home with a woman (ever since Cas it was an extremely rare occurrence), he would sulk around the bunker and give Dean the silent treatment when he got back. Right now, that sadness was on full display. As this all unfolded, Sam felt like he was watching a warhead that might go off at any moment. 

“What’s got you down love?” Balthazar asked, caressing Castiel’s cheek with the back of his hand. 

Gabe, ever so forward, squeezed Dean’s inner thigh. “Wow, so muscular.” That was enough for Dean. 

“Quit groping me dude!” He exclaimed, pushing him to his chair. Dean glanced down the table at Cas and Balthazar again. The Brit saw him, and took the opportunity. He leaned his head on Cas’s shoulder, and Cas finally got what he was trying to convey. 

“Balthazar, you’re behaving very inappropriately,” Cas said, shrugging him away. 

“I’m sorry Castiel, you’re just so handsome. I find it hard to pass up something so great, especially when it’s right in front of me,” He said. Dean’s anger lessened after hearing what he’d said, like what he said hit close to home. Sam was impressed, it was a good line, but Dean was still angry. 

“You heard him, he’s not interested. Aren’t you brothers anyway?” Dean snapped. 

“It depends how you look at it. Besides, why should you care? You’re not his  _ boyfriend  _ or anything.” Silence. Dean’s face went deadpan, but in his eyes, Sam saw rage. Dean stood up out of his chair, looking at Cas like he had been challenged, he had an aura of determination about him. Sam knew if he didn’t act, he was going to lose, and the angels would get a device that could save lives. 

“Gabriel, Balthazar, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. Dean, let’s escort them out,” Sam said. 

“Gladly,” Dean replied. They seized them by the collar, and dragged them to the front door. 

“You’ll regret this Sam. This isn’t playing fair,” Gabe whispered to him. 

“This is my house, I can do whatever I damn well please. Now get out.” Sam slammed the door behind them, and locked it. After Crowley had gotten into the bunker, Sam had put the warding backup, they weren’t popping back in. “Dean, I think you need to cool down. You just about lost it there.” 

“What are you talking about? Why would I be angry?” 

Sam couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit that they had almost done it. “I don’t know.”

Dean sighed at him. “I’m going to my room.” He retreated down the stairs, grabbed his plate of chicken and his beer, then wandered down the hall. Castiel had already gone somewhere else. Sam sat at the table with a hefty exhale. At least his chicken skin was safe. 


	6. Heart to Heart

Bobby felt weird doing this. He wasn’t one for sappy talks, and he believed if Dean wanted to tell Cas his feelings, he would on his own terms. But, that Supirittoshia thing was worth going against his conscience for. He was getting old, hunts weren’t as easy as they used to be without a spry body. Being able to see spirits and know their name would work wonders for his career. It would save countless lives as well. 

Sam had called a few days ago, detailing what the others had attempted. He told him about the nightmarish gas station chase, about Crowley turning invisible and messing with them (Sam still had no clue what he'd done), and about that the two angels had been there that weekend trying to make Cas and Dean jealous. Bobby refused to use such ploys. Forcing the emotions out of them, wasn’t going to work. They needed to be coaxed out in a safe atmosphere. Bobby had an advantage that none of the other players (but Sam) had: a family-like relationship with Dean Winchester. He was going to sit Dean down, and they were going to have a heart to heart.

“Hey Bobby.” He welcomed Dean into his house. 

“Hi Dean,” Bobby greeted warmly. He considered hugging him, but that was so out of character, it would unease Dean, not relax him. “Why don’t we go to the living room?” 

“Is there a reason Sam wasn’t invited?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, in fact Sam knows he wasn’t invited. I wanted to talk, just the two of us,” Bobby said as Dean sat across from Bobby’s desk. 

“Is this about the Birds and the Bees? Because I’m afraid that train left the station ages ago,” Dean said before laughing at his own joke. 

“Not really,” Bobby said. He poured them two bourbons, and sat at the desk. “I wanted to talk about you.” 

“About me?” 

“Yes. You and Sam are like sons to me, and I hope to know you can talk to me about anything, like your...feelings. This is a judgement free zone, unless you’re doin’ somethin’ stupid like giving yourself to Michael,” Bobby explained. 

“You brought me here to talk about my  _ feelings?”  _ Dean questioned in annoyance. 

“All I want is for you to be happy, and sometimes I’m afraid you don’t allow yourself happiness even if it’s right there in front of you,” Bobby said. 

“Are you sure you’re the right person to go preaching about emotions and shit?” Dean asked after taking a sip of bourbon. 

“I know I’m not the right person, but I’m the best person you’ve got. I know what it’s like to repress things, Dean. I’ve missed out on some great things in life because I was too busy ignoring my heart, and now that I’m old, I regret not being in touch with that side of myself. It’s too late for me to change, but you’re young, you’ve gotta’ grab life by the balls, find what brings you joy, and take it before the opportunity is gone,” Bobby said. Dean squinted his eyes at him with suspicion. 

“What are you talking about, Bobby?” He asked. 

“Do I really need to spell it out for ya’?” Bobby sighed. Dean’s raised brow and his anticipatory silence gave the answer. “I’m talkin’ about,  _ Cas, _ ” he admitted. 

“The angel?” Panic flashed in Dean’s eyes. He seemed to scramble for an answer. “Bobby are you insane? Cas is my best friend, but I don’t…” he trailed off, unable to deny it. “You are way out of line with this Bobby!” 

“I only want to help you, son. You’ve sacrificed so much, you deserve to be with the person you love.” The second the “L” word escaped his mouth, Bobby knew he fucked up. 

“How dare you! You don’t know what you’re talking about Bobby! Jesus, I don’t go around telling you you’re in love with Ellen, or Jody, or Rufus! Cas and I are just friends! I don’t even know why you’re doing this! Is this some kind of joke?!” He shouted. 

“No Dean! You need to calm down and think about what I’m sayin’ here! I see it, Sam sees it, every single person who’s been in the same room as you sees it, hell the only people in denial are you two boneheads!” 

“You know what,” Dean said. “I’m leaving. There’s a motel down the road. I’ll stay there for the night.” He got up and stormed towards the front door. 

“Dean-at least consider what I said!” He got no reply. 

\---------------

Bobby didn’t know what he’d been thinking. Having a heart to heart with Dean was like talking to a brick wall with the temper of the Hulk. No surprise his feelings for Cas were a huge trigger, they were one of the most well guarded parts about him. Dean would rather run off and hide in a ditch than face such complicated emotions. Bobby would need to take a different approach to this. Maybe if he could get Dean tipsy, not so drunk it removed his will, but drunk enough he might let some things slip. Then again, it was possible Dean had left town overnight he was so mad, and that Bobby had blown his chance.

* _ ding dong*  _

It was eight in the morning. Bobby was just pouring his coffee. He’d never known Dean to be a morning person, so he found it unlikely to be the Winchester. However Dean always found ways to surprise him. He stood at Bobby’s door looking like a disheveled mess. His eyes were red with sleep deprivation, he was in the same outfit as yesterday, and he looked like he’d been crying. 

“Is everything alright, Dean?” Bobby asked. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and stepped inside. “No, everything’s not alright. I was up all night thinking about what you said, about Cas, a-a-and the truth is I don’t know. I don’t know what to do about it. I’m so confused, man,” he stammered. He was on the verge of tears. 

“Oh Dean,” Bobby muttered. He pulled Dean into a tight embrace. “Maybe, it would be healthy if you tried talking to him.” 

“I can’t. If all of this screws up our friendship, and ends up chasing him away like every good thing in my life, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” Dean admitted. As much as Bobby wanted to win the contest, he respected Dean’s wishes and feelings more. Like he’d decided at the beginning of all this, he wasn’t forcing anything out of Dean. 

“I understand where you’re coming from son. Here, why don’t you come in. I’ll make you breakfast,” Bobby said, rubbing his back. 

“Eggos?” 

“What else would it be?” 


	7. Taking Shots

Sam, Dean, and Castiel had gone to their favorite dive bar in Lebanon, Kansas. It was a sleazy place. The barstools were creaky, it reeked of cigarettes, and the bartender always had a bandaged hand. It was just their speed. The primary customers were truckers, bikers, and biker chicks. This meant there weren’t many regulars. Dean used this as an advantage to hustle unsuspecting men with bushy goatees and gigantic arms. 

“This asshole is playing us!” A leather wearing stud exclaimed. Dean had sunk three balls on his first shot. 

“Beginners luck, I swear!” Dean said, holding his hands in surrender. 

“Lucky for you, I’m on probation, so beating your ass isn’t an option. I forfeit.” The man grabbed his money from the side of the pool table and stormed away with it. 

“Dammit,” Dean muttered. He brushed it off and began to play by himself. 

“I wish you guys could find more stable, morally sound ways of making money,” Cas said. 

“Trust me, so do I,” Sam grumbled before sipping his beer. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sam choked on his drink, he was so surprised. Ruby and Meg had come out of nowhere, they wore smiles that made Sam nervous. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. 

“Don’t worry Sam, we’re not here for you. We’re here for dear old Castiel,” Meg said. 

“You see,” Ruby whispered so only Sam could hear. “Everyone’s been trying to make Dean break. It’s stupid. Dean is an emotionally repressed mess. We think Cas is the golden ticket.” They had a point. Cas was staring at Dean like he was the only person in the room. Dean kept glancing over at him and attempting really tricky shots to impress the angel (who had no idea they were tricky). They approached Castiel and wrapped themselves around both his arms. 

“Mmm, what a sight,” Meg hummed as Dean bent over the table. 

“Honestly,” Ruby replied. “That ass in those jeans, I’d give anything to have a squeeze.” Cas’s cheeks burned scarlet and he looked anywhere but Dean. The girls watched him with stark amusement. 

“What do you think, Clarence?” Meg questioned. 

“About what?” Cas feigned innocence. 

“ _ Dean.  _ What do you think of Dean?” Ruby clarified. 

Cas shrugged. “He’s a good man.” All three of them could see past his ruse. When he was flustered by Dean, he did a terrible job at hiding it. 

“No, what do you think of his looks? Do you think he’s hot? What do you think he’s like in bed? Would he buy dinner first?” Meg asked. 

“Um, well, I’ve never really thought about it. But I suppose, based on your society’s laws of conventional attractiveness, Dean would be pleasant to the eye. And uh, in bed, based on the numerous women he’s attracted and satisfied I assume he’s adequate. Like I said, I’ve never thought about it,” Cas stammered. 

“Oh honey,” Ruby said, playing with his tie. “You are the worst liar I’ve ever seen.” 

“We aren’t here to judge you, Clarence. We’re here to help you make your move,” Meg explained. 

“We all know you want him, and he wants you too. I mean, look at him ogle you, he’s practically a bitch in heat,” Ruby said. 

“Ruby!” Sam exclaimed, he’d never seen Cas so uncomfortable. 

“Shut up Sam,” Meg snapped. “Cas, all you have to do is get in there and take the initiative. He certainly won’t do it, it has to be you. Be direct and he’ll be all over you in no time.” 

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Dean only sees me as a friend, he won’t appreciate my advances,” Cas lamented. 

“Drop obvious hints, test the waters,” Ruby advised. 

“I’m not exactly smooth,” Cas said. 

“Just talk to him about his interests. Let him know you like spending time with him. Compliment his jeans. Ooh, you know what, I bet he would love it if you went to play pool with him,” Meg replied. 

“Great idea!” Ruby said. 

“I don’t know how to play pool,” Cas informed them. 

“Then ask him to teach you, dummy,” Meg said. Cas weighed the consequences in his head, then made a decision. He grabbed Sam’s beer, and chugged it until every last drop was gone. Sam scoffed at him, but he was ignored. 

“I’m going,” Cas declared. 

“Atta boy!” Ruby said as Cas got down out of his seat. 

“Hold on,” Meg said, touching his chest so he wouldn’t leave. “Lose the trenchcoat. And the blazer.” Cas seemed confused, but he did as he was told. He stripped down to nothing but his black trousers, his white dress shirt, and his blue tie. 

Ruby scanned him head to toe. “Roll up the sleeves.” He did just that, and she bit her lip with immense approval. 

“Delicious. Now go get ‘im tiger.” Meg literally shoved him towards the pool table. He shuffled over in a stiff fashion. 

“Hello Dean. I’ve never played pool before, I was wondering if you’d like to teach me. I like your jeans.” It was a good attempt for Cas. Dean seemed to dig it anyways. 

“Hell yeah I’ll teach you man!” Dean answered, beaming. “And thanks, I stole them from Old Navy.” Sam saw Cas exhale in relief and grin bashfully at him. 

“How do I begin?” He asked. 

“Grab a stick and I’ll lay down the basics,” Dean said. Sam’s face fell, his beer was gone, and two demons had smashed the competition. 

“Aww, don’t look so upset Sam, it’s heartbreaking,” Meg said with sarcasm. 

“Don’t look so smug. It could go anywhere,” Sam huffed. 

“You’re just jealous that you haven’t thought of anything. You’re with them every second of the day, and you still haven’t even tried to get them together,” Ruby said. 

“That’s not true. I have a plan, but I’m still working on it. Don’t hold your breath. You’ll find out what it is soon enough,” Sam replied. 

“Whatever it is, you better hurry. Look at them, the clock is ticking,” Meg said, gesturing to the pool table. It was straight out of a romance movie or a porno. Dean leaned over Cas, guiding his hands as he taught him how to use a pool stick. Dean glanced where their hips were pressed together and wetted his lips with his tongue. It was super weird for Sam to watch, but it made him nervous. Ruby and Meg were right, he had to hurry, or that contract would burn up before he got his chance. 

“Good luck Sam,” Meg said. “You’ll need it now. Give us a call if they kiss tonight so we can pick up our toy.” And they disappeared from the bar. Sam sighed, and got up to get another drink. 


	8. Stress Relief

The contract was still intact. Sam was lucky for it. There had been moments where he was certain they were about to kiss that night. Of course, he couldn’t let  _ demons  _ get the Supirittoshia, so he interrupted whenever they stared too long at each other’s lips. It had made him antsy, though, things were heating up.  One week later, and the tension between them had never been so high. Every time they touched, Sam felt like they were moments from jumping each other's bones. Sam hadn’t seen either of their eyes in days, they were so caught up staring at each other. When Charlie came to visit for dinner, he was relieved to get a break from being the only person around them. 

“Can you pass the salt, Cas?” Dean asked, oddly earnest in his tone. 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied with equal conviction. He handed him the salt, and their fingers lingered around the shaker. Dean salted his mashed potatoes, but before he took a bite, he gulped down some water. A single trickle rolled down his jaw, and Cas gawked with passionate concentration. 

“Oh my god,” Charlie mouthed to Sam. “You were right, this is bad.” 

“It’s been getting worse and worse since the thing started. I’m starting to wish it would end already, I don’t even know if the prize is worth it anymore,” Sam replied. He didn’t think Dean or Cas had been listening. 

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked with a mouth full of potatoes. 

“Uh, nothing important,” Sam deflected. He seemed unconvinced, but he didn’t push. 

“So, how’s work?” Charlie asked to change the subject. 

“Awful. Painful. Bloody. The usual stuff,” Dean replied. 

“Sounds like you could use some stress relief,” Charlie said. 

“Tell me about it. If you have any suggestions I’d love to hear ‘em,” Dean said. 

“Actually,” she said. “I do! I’ve been taking this class recently, it’s like meditation shit, and it works wonders! I’ve never been so relaxed in my life. Maybe you boys could come with me sometime, guests are free, and you could use it.” 

Dean gave her an offended look. “No freaking way, Charlie.” 

“Come on Dean! Every single  _ human  _ can benefit from this. Stop pretending like you’re too macho,” She argued, but she was looking at Sam, praying he would understand. Sam did. This was a set up, and this time, it was for his team. 

“We’ll be there, Charlie, all three of us,” Sam said, earning a glare of death from his brother. 

“Cool beans,” She replied. “It’s on Wednesday at two pm. I’ll be sure to text you the address.” 

\-----------

Sam didn’t know what to think. They rolled up to a three story mansion, and Sam had no idea where Charlie would be going with this.  “Oh shit, I can get down with this!” At least Dean was excited now. 

“This is a nice house, Dean. Don’t get so excited you break something,” Sam warned as they climbed out of the car. 

“Bitch.” 

“Jerk.” 

They walked up the large, green lawn, to the ornate front doors. Dean rang the golden doorbell, and a beautiful harp solo echoed throughout the home. Moments later, not one, but two flaming redheads answered the door. 

“Hello boys,” Rowena said. She wore a tight red gown. “Welcome to my home.” 

“ _ This  _ is where you live?” Dean asked, astonished. 

“I’m a three hundred year old witch. I’ve earned a fair wage over time,” she explained. 

“Are you part of the stress relief class?” Cas wondered. 

“Yes my dear, I’m the teacher,” Rowena revealed. 

“Charlie!” Dean exclaimed. “Don’t you think you should have told us about this?!” 

“If I had you wouldn’t have come.” 

“Hell no we wouldn’t have!” 

“Just give her a chance Dean, she’s really good,” Charlie begged. Dean looked to Sam for help. Sam wouldn’t comply, he wanted to see where this was going. 

“We did drive all this way,” he said. Sam entered the house, Cas followed. Dean hung back, cursing at Sam under his breath, but he didn’t want to be the only one out there. 

“Great,” Rowena said when they were all in. “Right this way students. We’re heading to the master bedroom.” 

Sam fell beside Charlie. “How did you get Rowena in on this? She’s a witch, shouldn’t she play for the monsters?” 

“Technically, witches are human Sam. She was happy to help. She said Dean and Cas were adorable together, and that she’d do anything to keep Crowley from winning. So here she is.” 

“Alright. So what’s the plan?” If they had a powerful witch on their side, he wasn’t going to complain. 

“I...don’t know. She won’t tell me that part. My job was to lure you here, and help her set up.”  That was concerning to hear. 

Rowena opened a set of double doors, and they entered the room. Rowena and Charlie had managed to do what Benny and Gordon had failed: they had set the mood. Mulberry-purple drapes covered the windows. The rug was fluffy, and ruby red. Scented candles provided the light; lavender incense created smokey, fragrant air. Soft, relaxing music played from a boombox on the bed. Sam felt out of place with his filthy flannel shirt and faded jeans. 

“Welcome. Everyone, sit in a circle on this rug. If you’re wearing a jacket, remove it,” Rowena instructed in a soothing tone. Dean removed his leather jacket, and Cas removed his trenchcoat. “We’re going to get into partners: Castiel and Dean, Sam and Charlie. To begin, you’re going to give your partner a thirty second shoulder massage.” They all sat around, not moving. Cas and Dean looked at each other with hesitant eyes, and Sam didn’t want to start until they had, or else it would be weird. 

“Hop to it,” Rowena snapped.  Sam shuffled over to Charlie, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He didn’t feel weird about it, she was like a little sister. In fact, he enjoyed showing physical affection every once and awhile. 

“Jesus Cas, you’re so stiff,” Dean muttered. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve never had a massage before, I don’t know the correct protocol,” Cas replied. 

“Try and relax your muscles more. It makes it easier for both of us,” Dean said. But time was up. 

“Switch,” Rowena ordered. Charlie's hands were small, bony, and she rubbed too hard. Sam stayed quiet so he wouldn’t make it awkward. Dean, on the other hand, was getting the massage of a lifetime. He tried to stifle them, but little moans escaped his lips. Sam counted with Rowena this time. 

“Times up. We’re going to sit in a circle, and hold hands,” Rowena said. They all scooted around until they were interlinked with each other. “Now, I’m going to cast a spell. When I’m finished, you’re going to feel alleviated.  _ Discoperiet lingua vestra. Nihil est, veritatem manifesta amoris. _ ” Something deep inside Sam’s chest...released. He felt like every worry he’d ever had dissipated, his guard was completely down. “In our daily lives, the people around us tend to cause us worry, stress, confusion. Today, we’re going to let go of how we feel. You’re going to look at the person to your left, and tell them, honestly, how they make you feel. Whether it’s good, or bad, don’t hold back. Charlie, you go first.” 

Charlie peered up into Sam’s eyes, and a guilty expression appeared on her face. “Sam, you know I care about you. But, I hate your hair.” Sam blinked, unsure how to react. He was offended, but Charlie was allowed to have an opinion. “It’s super long, and everytime I look at it I get confused. I can’t decide if I want to braid it, and curl it, and make it beautiful, or if I want to cut it off. Everytime I see you, it’s longer, and it stresses me out man.” 

“It’s my hair, I don’t care if you like it or not,” Sam replied. He covered his mouth, he hadn’t meant to say that! It had just slipped out! “I’m sorry Charlie! I-I didn’t-” 

“Don’t worry Sam, you expressed your feelings, that’s the goal here. Why don’t you look at Dean, and take your turn,” Rowena interrupted. Sam had so many pent up feelings about his brother, that he didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t say too much without hurting his feelings, or telling him a huge secret. However, he didn’t seem to have control over what left his mouth. 

“Sometimes I wish you’d never come to Stanford. I wish you would’ve left me be, let dad stay missing. You ruined the normal life I could have had, Dean, and I resent you for it. I love you, you’re my brother, and I’m happy that I get to save people, but if I could go back in time, I never would have gone with you.” It was all true, but Sam hadn’t meant to say any of it. He had no filter, and he didn’t know why. 

“I know Sammy. I’ve known since day one, and I accepted it years ago. Hell, if I were you, I’d be filled with resentment as well,” Dean replied, but Sam wasn’t paying attention. He was scrambling, trying to think of why he’d said that. Then, Dean turned to Cas. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, and Dean let out a heavy, adoring, sigh. 

“Where do I even start, Cas? You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in my entire, miserable life. You have the most gorgeous eyes, whenever I look at you, I can finally imagine the color of the ocean. I love it when I wake up in the morning and smell coffee, because I know you were able to work the machine without breaking it. It’s not good coffee, not by a longshot, but I drink it anyway to make you happy.” Then it hit Sam: this was a truth spell. They weren’t in control of anything they were saying. He wanted Dean to keep going, to win the Supirittoshia, but the first rule was being broken. He had to step in. 

“Hey! This is a truth spell!” He exclaimed. “Rowena, Charlie, you’ve cheated!” 

“What?!” Charlie and Dean shouted. Cas was still in shock from what Dean had said. 

“How have we cheated?” Rowena asked. She and Charlie were in the beginning stages of turning purple. 

“You took away their will! That was literally the first rule!” 

"That may have slipped my mind when I told her about everything,” Charlie admitted. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Dean exclaimed. He watched with perplexity as the women turned a bright violet. 

“Rowena, reverse the spell!” Sam ordered, this had to end before the truth about the contest was revealed. He and Charlie covered their mouths as Rowena undid the magic. 

“ _ Da eos in loquendo cohibere,”  _ Rowena said. Sam’s urge to tell Dean about the competition withered away. “Get out of my house, Winchesters,” she hissed after scowling at her purple arms. “Class is over.” 

\------------

“Sam, I’m tired of the lies, things have been weird for weeks now, and I want to know why,” Dean demanded. He’d been bothering Sam the entire ride. 

“I’m telling you Dean, I can’t say,” Sam said. 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

“Can’t! I physically cannot tell you! So you might as well give up!” 

“How immature! I-” 

Sam turned up the music. He wasn’t going to turn purple, not today. 


	9. The Power of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I thought the format of this chapter might be a bit confusing. The majority of it is supposed to read like you're watching a completed and edited video through a computer screen. I hope that clears it up a bit. Thank you for reading!

“Hello, my name is Henry Spengler, and this is my ghost hunting partner Ed Zeddmore. Together, we’re the Ghostfacers!” 

“Today on Ghostfacers,” Ed’s said. “We’re going to investigate the Haunted Powerplant of Lebanon. According to legend, the ghost of Andy Whittmer roams the halls of an abandoned nuclear power plant. He was a worker who was killed by his own forklift, and his body was never found. On this journey, the Ghostfacers will reunite with old friends, witness the will-they-won’t-they relationship of the century, and face a threat like no other. Let the nightmare begin.” 

*black screen* 

Ed, Henry, and Maggie approached the front door. “Are you ready for this guys?” Ed breathed nervously. 

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Spruce responded from off screen. Henry took a deep, dramatic, breath, and twisted the knob. It was unlocked. 

“Woh,” he said as he ventured into a small, concrete room with another door. “Guys, there’s a _*bleep*_ ing doorbell.” 

“Should we ring it?” Maggie asked. 

“If we want to get to the bottom of this, yes. I’ll do it.” Ed said. With a trembling finger, he pressed the doorbell. 

“Did it work?” Henry asked. 

“I-I dunno. Let me try again.” Ed rang it once more. Still no answer. He rang it, and rang it, and rang it until one minute later, it swung open. Sam Winchester stood on the other side of the door in pajamas. 

“What the _*bleep*_ ,” he said, less than enthused. 

“Could you try not to cuss,” Maggie whispered. “You’re on camera.” 

“What the hell! How did you find this place?” Sam exclaimed, shoving his hand towards the screen. 

“This is the Haunted Powerplant of Lebanon. We’re on a ghost hunt,” Ed explained. 

“Haunted Powerplant of Lebanon? What in god’s name-you know what, it’s too late for this _*bleep*_ , get lost,” Sam said, attempting to slam the door. Henry lurched forward and kept it open. 

“Is everything alright Sam? Why are you sleeping in an abandoned powerplant? Are you homeless?” Henry mumbled, trying to keep the camera from picking it up. 

“Sammy! Who’s there?!” A husky voice shouted from inside.

“Oh my god,” Maggie muttered to the camera. “It’s Dean! Dean Winchester!” 

“The _*bleep*_ ing Ghostfacers!” Sam shouted back. 

“Those asshats? Are you joking?” Dean replied. 

“Asshats?” Henry and Maggie gasped in unison. 

“Hold on,” Ed said. “Spruce, zoom in, this place doesn’t look abandoned at all.” The lens zoomed in behind Sam to reveal the spacey bunker in the background. Henry’s face widened with wonder, and he brushed past Sam to go in. They all followed. 

“What-no-I didn’t invite you inside!” 

“Wow,” Maggie gasped as they descended down the stairs. There was a sweeping shot of the map table, the library, and the odd instruments lying all around. “What is this place?” 

“Sam! You let them in?!” The camera zoomed at Dean, who was wearing a robe. He sat very close to a dark haired man in a trenchcoat. Henry saw him, and went pale. 

He got uncomfortably close to the screen. “That’s the Castiel guy. The one who could teleport, he showed up like four years ago before we went to York. Remember? He said we were witnesses to the apocalypse or something.” 

“Oh yeah!” Spruce said behind the camera. “Did that ever happen?” 

“They just barged in!” Sam yelled as he followed them into the main room. 

“Jesus christ they have cameras. Alright, if you don’t leave in five seconds, I will go ape _*bleep*_ ,” Dean warned. 

“We  _ have  _ a reason to be here,” Ed said. 

“This is our home! You have no reason to be here! You know what, I’ve had enough.” Dean snatched a gun lying on the table, and the screen turned into a blur as the Ghostfacers screamed with terror. 

“Dean.” The camera refocused on Castiel and Dean, but it was still shaky. “Calm down.” Castiel spoke in a gentle voice that somehow worked. The camera panned over and zoomed in where Cas rubbed Dean’s back in a soothing manner. 

“Your home is haunted. We’re here to help,” Ed explained. 

“By help, do you mean wave a camera in our face while we do all the work?” Sam asked. 

“And this bunker is not haunted. I would know if a spirit resided in this place,” Castiel said. He finished speaking, and everything went black. The lights, the table, and all the electronics in the room. (A bang went off as a dramatic sound effect.)

“Ahhhh!” The Ghostfacers started screaming again. 

“Cas, a little help.” Sam said somewhere in the dark. 

A moment later, when the Ghostfacers had quieted down, Cas replied. “I can’t. My powers, they aren’t working. There isn’t any warding against them, I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“Damn. That’s alright, we’ll figure out another way,” Dean said in reassurance. “I know I have a flashlight in my room somewhere. Camera guy, does that thing have night vision?” 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“Turn it on. You and I are going on a little trip,” Dean said. The screen illuminated with eerie green lighting. There was a shot of every one of their faces. They were all pale green, and their eyes shone like lightning bugs. 

“Isn’t that dangerous? Going off alone in a haunted bunker? In the dark?” Maggie asked. 

“Our bunker isn’t haunted, alright? The power went out, we’re going to my room to get a flashlight, then going to the basement where the power generator is. We’re not in any danger,” Dean argued. 

“Just in case, Cas and I should come as back up,” Henry said. 

“Why do you get the angel?” Ed asked. 

“Oh my god, it doesn’t _*bleep*_ ing matter. Cas, Harry, Camera guy, let’s go. I promise it ain’t gonna be exciting,” Dean said, waving them after him. 

“Maggie,” Henry said. “If anything happens, don’t forget you have that gopro. I’ll see you later babe.” 

“I love you Henry! You’re so brave!” She threw herself at him, and they made out. The sounds of their wet kisses picked up on their microphones. Dean and Cas looked at each other with disgust. 

“Stop it,” Cas said. The couple tore themselves away, and shared a look of longing before going their separate ways. 

*cut to black* 

The next shot showed Dean’s room. Dean was searching for his flashlight, in the meantime, Henry walked behind the Spruce and the camera to examine the room. 

“Let’s see. We have a bed, lots of empty beer bottles, a TV, aww, look at these pictures.” Henry shuffled through old photographs of Sam and Dean as their younger selves. In some of them, they were only children. 

“Hey,” Cas said, causing Henry to jump. “Those are not yours to look at.” Out of nowhere, there was a loud noise from Dean. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, instantly attentive. 

“You left your shoes by the bed, Cas,” Dean complained. “I tripped over them.” Henry looked at the screen with a gaping jaw. 

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Cas replied. 

“Good news though. I found the flashlight,” Dean said. The nightvision switched off. Dean flicked the flashlight on and shined it directly into Castiel’s eyes. Cas didn’t even flinch. “Freaky man,” Dean muttered. “Anyways, we should get back to Sam and the others.” 

“Maybe we should bring a shotgun with salt rounds,” Henry suggested. 

“A: I have no salt rounds in my room. The bullets are normal, and reserved for humans who come into my house without asking. B: this bunker isn’t _*bleep*_ ing haunted, so we don’t need it!” Dean exclaimed before storming out. 

“Did he just threaten us?” Henry asked the camera. 

"Yes,” Cas said before following Dean. 

The camera followed them down the extensive hallways, only stopping when Dean and Cas did. “Do you see that?” Cas asked. 

There was a shadowy silhouette standing at the end of the corridor. “It’s probably one of the others. Hey! I thought I told you to stay with Sam!” Dean shouted down the hall. There was no response. He shined the flashlight down the hall; it wasn’t one of the others. It was a man dressed in denim overalls, a hard had, and a jacket that read  _ Shurley Industries.  _ His outfit was not what the camera focused on. It was the two gaping holes in his gut. 

“Andy Whittmer!” Henry gasped. 

“Go go go!” Dean gripped Castiel’s arm, and they all began to sprint in the opposite direction. The screen was so turbulent, it was nauseating. (A scary chase-theme was the background music). They hurdled down the maze of hallways until Dean took a sharp turn into one of the rooms. 

“Is this the kitchen?” Henry asked. 

“Yes dip* _bleep_ *!” Dean hurried into what seemed to be the pantry, and came back with a container of salt. He hastily poured a line in front of the door, and they were safe. 

“I don’t understand,” Cas said. “How could there be a vengeful spirit here without us knowing until now?” 

“There’s the million dollar question. Sit tight Cas, I’m gonna call Sam.” Dean reached into his front pockets, then his back pockets, and then his front pockets again. “Oh no, I forgot my phone in the library! Cas, you have one on you right?” 

“I do, but it stopped working before they got here. Usually I use my powers to fix it, but that’s impossible now,” Cas said. 

“Really? Hand it to me, maybe I can tell what’s wrong with it,” Dean took it from his hand, and began to poke around at it. There was a closeup of their touching shoulders, and a close up of the phone. “I think it’s dead. I would tell you to charge it with an actual chord, but since the power is out that’s not an option.” 

“So we just wait?” 

“I guess so. Sam will come looking eventually,” Dean said as he went over to the fridge. 

“In the meantime, wanna hear what we have on this ghost?” Henry asked. 

“Why not,” Dean sighed, taking two beers from the fridge. One was for himself, the other was for the angel. They leaned against the sink, and Dean handed it over. 

“I don’t drink that often,” Cas whispered to him. 

“Trust me, for this, you’ll need it.” 

  
  


*cut to black* 

“Andy Whittmer died on April 15th, 1918. According to witnesses, he was impaled on his own forklift when trying to transport a box of cargo. They never found the body, and he’s rumored to have haunted this building ever since.” Henry slid the news article across the kitchen table for them to read. Dean didn’t even glance at it. Cas neither. 

“That’s a load of horse _*bleep*_ ,” Dean told them. 

“Wha-you didn’t even read the article!” Henry said. 

“This bunker was built in the 1930’s,” Cas explained. “And it’s never been a power plant. The exterior is only for show.” 

“Then how come we saw Andy Whittmer’s ghost?” 

“Most likely, there’s something in this bunker keeping him here. Something connected to Andy during life. We have to find it and burn it,” Cas explained. 

“Look at you, Cas. You’re starting to sound like a hunter,” Dean said in a prideful tone. 

“I’m learning from the best,” Cas said, causing Dean to melt into a smile. The conversation paused there. They got distracted staring at each other’s lips and eyes. Henry gave the screen an awkward glance, and coughed at the top of his lungs. 

“We should figure out what’s keeping him here,” Henry said. 

“What do we know about the guy?” Dean asked, tearing his gaze away from Cas. 

“Not much. He was born in Bar Harbor, Maine and moved to Kansas after college. His favorite hobby was building model ships, you know, the ones in bottles. He managed to sell a few,” Henry said. 

“Cas has one of those in his room,” Dean said. “Could that be it?” 

“It might be. I don’t even know where it came from, let alone who made it,” Cas said. 

“Oh, well, that was me. I found it in some box when we first got here, and at first it was in my room, then you moved in. Your room had  _ no  _ decoration, so I put it in there,” Dean explained. 

“Thank you, I enjoy it’s presence.” 

“I knew you would...Hot-wings,” Dean snickered. 

Cas glared sharply at him. “I told you not to call me that.” 

“Sorry, it slipped,” Dean lied. He continued to chuckle under his breath and gaze at Cas with a flirtatious grin. 

“It’s not funny, Dean!” Cas snapped. 

“Just a little,” Dean teased. 

Henry put a stop to their coy banter. “How are we going to get there?” He finally asked. 

“I think our best shot will be to make a break for it. We’ll take the salt too,” Dean said. 

“One more question,” Henry said. “Are you guys like, dating or something?” There was no response. They stared at him like he’d spoken elvish, and at the same time, like he’d said the most offensive thing they’d ever heard. In utter silence, they set down their beers, Cas took the salt, and they left the kitchen. 

Henry looked at the screen, he was at a loss. “I still can’t tell,” He mumbled. 

“Are you _*bleep*_ ing coming or not?!” Dean yelled from the hallway. 

“Yeah, Yeah!” Henry answered. The camera followed him into the corridor. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Cas said. 

  
  


*fade to black* 

“What is taking them so long?” The GoPro focused on Sam as he paced around near the table. Ed had turned on his phone flashlight to help them all see. 

“Do you think they’re dead?” Maggie asked off screen. 

“No, they aren’t dead, unless they decided to kill each other,” Sam said. 

“It could’ve been the ghost of Andy Whittmer,” Ed suggested. 

“This bunker isn’t haunted!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation; but, right behind him a ghostly apparition popped into view. 

“OOH MYY GOOD!” Ed screamed at the top of his lungs. He whipped out the iron crowbar he’d brought for self defense, and chucked it at the spirit. It narrowly missed Sam, and flew right through the ghost’s body, causing it to vanish. 

“He was there! He was there!” Maggie and Ed shrieked. Sam had a terrified look in his eye, he looked at the crowbar, contemplating how close he’d just been to another death. 

“I believe you now,” he breathed. He picked up the crowbar. “I’ll hold this, though. We have to go to the basement for something.” 

“For what?” Ed asked. 

“Something called the Supirittoshia. It’ll help us see this dude’s spirit, but I had to lock it away in a safe for...reasons. Just stick close to me, and don’t do anything stupid.” 

*cut to black* 

The screen was so blurry as they ran, it was hard to tell where they were. They hadn’t reached Castiel’s room yet when Andy Whittmer popped into view. (horror movie music began to play) He blocked their only path, and with the flick of his wrist he flung the salt from Cas's hand. Andy lunged at Cas with a bloodthirsty rage in his eyes. Without his powers, the angel was a sitting duck. 

“Cas!” Dean threw himself in front of Castiel, making him the victim instead. Andy seized Dean by the throat and hurled him against the wall like a ragdoll. Then, he disappeared for no apparent reason. They didn’t care. Cas rushed over to Dean, and Henry stood watching with grave concern. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean heaved. He winced hard and clutched his chest. 

“What’s wrong Dean?” Cas asked, touching his shoulder to comfort him. His brow scrunched deeply as he observed Dean’s pain. 

“I think the douchebag broke one of my ribs,” Dean wheezed. 

“We have to get you out of here,” Cas insisted. (The horror music in the background switched to swelling, romantic violins). 

“No, Cas. You gotta’ leave me here, I’ll be fine. Burning that ship is more important anyways,” Dean urged. Cas shook his head no; he reached forwards and grabbed Dean by the face, circling his thumbs over his stubble. 

“I’m not leaving you, Dean, not ever,” he declared. Dean’s eyes transformed, the only word to describe his expression was love. 

“Where’s your room? Spruce and I can destroy the ship,” Henry offered. 

Cas seemed hesitant, but he said, “Turn right at the end of this hallway. My door is the second one on the left.” 

“Cas-” Dean tried to stop him. 

“This isn’t up for debate.” Cas reached into Dean’s robe pocket and pulled out a lighter. He tossed it to Henry. “Be hasty.” 

*cut to black* 

“Are those...binoculars?”  The screen focused on the safe where a golden pair of goggles laid atop a piece of parchment. 

“Yes. I’ve gotta put them on, then we’ll be good to go,” Sam said, strapping himself in. There was laughter off screen. Sam then locked the safe, and they were on their way out. 

“Why are they so ugly?” Ed asked as they went up the stairs. 

“Don’t know. I didn’t make ‘em,” Sam replied in a monotonous tone.

“What’s the plan now?” Ed inquired a moment or two later. 

“We find the others. They need to know about the ghost,” Sam said. 

“What if they’ve already seen it?” 

“Then we’re all on the same page, which is good.”  Ed took the hint that Sam didn’t want to talk, and shut up. They wandered the halls in complete silence. The only sound was their footsteps. 

“Do you hear that?” Castiel’s voice echoed around the corner. 

“Cas?!” Sam called. 

“Sam! We’re over here!” Castiel shouted back. They turned at the intersection to find Cas hovering over Dean. 

“Is he OK?” Sam hurried over to check on his brother. 

“He broke a rib. I would have healed him but my powers…” 

“I know, it’s alright. What happened? Where are the others?” Sam interrupted. 

“I can’t believe it, but these Ghostfacers were right. A ghost is haunting the Bunker. He threw Dean against the wall, hence the broken rib. As for Henry and Spruce, I couldn’t leave Dean, so they’re attempting to burn a ship in my room,” Cas explained. 

“Burn a ship?” Ed asked. 

“Yes, it’s a long story. 

“Hold on. They’re alone?” questioned Sam. 

“If you want to go after them, feel free to,” Cas said. 

“Do you have anything to protect you?” Sam asked. He held up the salt container and nodded. “I think I’ll do that. You two,” he said pointing to Ed and the screen. “Please, for the love of god, don’t follow me.” And ran off to Henry and Spruce. 

*cut to black*

Henry stood with the boat in his hand. He turned to the camera, and held up the bottle. “Now, in order to get this ship, I’m going to have to break the bottle. Let’s hope it goes smoothly. Stand back Spruce, I don’t want you to get cut.” The camera backed away, providing a wider shot of Henry. “Here goes nothing.” In one fell swoop, he smashed the bottle against the ground. It shattered into a million little pieces. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” Henry whimpered after being hit with a shard or two. 

“Keep squealin’ boy. For that, you're gonna’ die.” Andy Whittmer stood in the doorway, glaring at the smashed bottle. He lurched for Henry, but he never made it. Sam Winchester appeared behind Andy and ran him through with an iron crowbar. 

“Give me the boat!” Sam ordered. Henry shoved it into his hands, and with the flick of a lighter, it erupted into flames. It was reduced to nothing but ash. When all was said and done, every light and electronic turned back on. “That was weird,” Sam said as he removed strange binoculars from his face. 

“Which part?” Henry asked. 

“He didn’t show up in the Supirittoshia. He was right there, I should have seen him,” Sam said. Henry shrugged, he had no clue what that was. 

“Well, there’s no use worrying about it now. I think we’ve won,” Henry said with triumph. 

*fade to black* 

(Peaceful, victorious music began to play) 

“Well,” Ed said. He and Henry stared at the screen. They sat across from Sam, Dean, and Cas, who looked rather grumpy. Maggie stood behind Ed and Henry. “It’s been a long night full of terror, love,” the camera panned to Dean and Cas, which caused them to scowl even harder. “But most importantly, triumph against evil. With that, we leave you, Ghostiacs. Until next time: the Ghostfacers.” 

*the credits began to roll* 

***************

Sam had trouble coping with what he’d just witnessed. Spruce paused the credits, and the rest of the Ghostfacers looked at Sam, Dean, and Cas with nail biting anticipation. They would be waiting for a while. Sam was speechless. Furious and speechless. Had they not learned their lesson the first time? What had possessed them to film the inside of their home like it was a movie set?

“So,” Ed asked, crossing his arms. “How many millions do you think we’re gonna’ make? How much of it do you want?” 

“None. You know why? Because you’re not releasing a fucking second of that footage, that’s why,” Dean growled. Sam might have been upset, but Dean was  _ livid.  _ They’d caught some moments he’d want to be erased for all eternity. 

“Why? This is some of the best stuff we’ve ever gotten! And no one died this time, which makes it even better!” Henry exclaimed in a failed attempt to hype them up. 

“Why? Because you revealed where we live, do you know how many feds want us dead? Because you’re threatening to show the entire world the existence of ghosts. Most of all, because you can’t use Cas and I for views like that! We’re not characters in a TV show! You can’t just edit shit to manipulate our relationship!” Dean shouted. 

“We didn’t edit any of those moments. I mean, we put music over that one scene for artistic purposes, but that’s it. Everything else was one hundred percent genuine. Wait? Are you guys like, not together? Is that why you’re upset?” Spruce asked. 

“No!” Dean and Cas replied in unison. 

“Then what was with the shoes, beside your bed?” Maggie asked. 

“He was making me watch Dr. Sexy again,” Cas grumbled. 

“I swear you’ll like it someday! Anyways, that’s beside the point,” Dean said.

“Come on,” Henry said. “Clearly, after seeing all of that, you have to know you’re in love with each other. Why don’t you just admit it and kiss or something!” Sam furrowed his brow. Something was off, it had been off from the second they’d shown up. A haunting that had no signs up until then? Cas’s powers mysteriously going away? The Supirittoshia not picking up Andy’s presence? There had to be something more to this. After what Henry had just said, he wondered if some heavenly intervention had been involved. 

“Henry, Ed, can I speak with you in private?” He asked. They nodded yes, and Sam led them down a hall where nobody could hear or see them. 

“What’s the deal?” Sam questioned. 

“What do you mean?” Replied Ed. 

“Is this part of the competition? Are you working for the humans, or are you angels in disguise?” 

“You’re making no sense Sam. I’m Ed Zeddmore, nobody else. Why would an angel take me as a vessel? What do you mean competition?” 

Caught him. “Ed, you’ve never met an angel other than Castiel. How do you know what a vessel is?” 

Henry glared at Ed and sighed. “Nice going Michael, you blew it.” 

“You just blew it! I could’ve lied if you hadn’t just opened your big fat mouth!” 

“You can’t lie to save your life.”

“Breaking one of the Ten Commandments is not something to boast about Lucifer.” 

Sam cut them off. “Micheal? Lucifer? You have some serious explaining to do!” 

“I just want to say,” Lucifer said. “This was all God’s idea. I thought it was too elaborate to begin with.” 

_ “God  _ is in on this?” Sam asked. 

“Yes. I suppose we should start front the beginning. Gabriel came to us and told us about everything happening, so naturally, I told my father. He said that the Supirittoshia should not be in the hands of anyone but himself, and that he’s been rooting for Dean and Castiel to get together since the day he met them. We three sat down together, and decided that the best way to get them together, would be to  _ show  _ them how in love they are,” Michael explained. 

“Yes.” Sam whirled around to see God/Chuck standing there. “But we couldn’t figure out how to do it without being obvious. I’ve been pulling the strings the entire time. The article they found? Completely fake. Andy Whittmer? Fake too. Once they were on the way to Lebanon, I had Michael and Lucifer take these two men as vessels. It wasn’t against the rules, because it was never Dean or Cas possessed. Anyways, Ed and Henry were always in control, but they had a voice in their head guiding them. It’s why Henry suggested Cas go with Dean. I was the one who turned off the lights and took away Cas’s powers. I sincerely thought that if they saw how they looked at each other, how they speak to each other, the angels would win, but as it turns out, not even the power of God can make Dean Winchester and Castiel kiss. This contest can never be won.” 


	10. Garthed

Everything had been so fucking insane lately. From the gas station to the Ghostfacers, Dean felt like he’d been living a fever dream the entire month. A fever dream where everyone, and everything, wanted him and Cas to be together. It had gotten to the point where every time he saw the angel, he had the urge to shove him against the wall and slam their lips together. It wasn’t like he hadn’t imagined it before, but now these thoughts were relentless. He sat across from said angel, all alone. Sam had claimed he had something to get ready, and that he wouldn’t be back for at least three days. 

It was torture, being cooped up inside with Cas. He enjoyed being near him, but at certain times the tension became too much, and he had to go out for a break. He wished he had the bravery to man up like Bobby had suggested and tell Cas, but he couldn’t. Looking him in the eye and telling him he was in…that he liked him in a romantic way would be the scariest thing he’d ever done. 

“Dean, your phone is buzzing,” Cas said. 

“Oh,” Dean took a glance at the screen. “Garth?” Maybe he needed help with a hunt. Dean set down the book he was reading and answered. 

“Hello,” he said. 

“Dean! Great to hear your voice man, as always!” 

“How are you doin’ Garth? Ya know, with the whole werewolf thing?” Dean asked. 

“Ha! I’m feeling the best I’ve ever felt. Anyways, I do have a reason for calling. I was wondering if you, Sam, and Cas would like to come down to my boathouse tomorrow night. You know, we could chill out, catch up, drink beer, go out on the water. I know you boys always need to relax, and I think it could be fun. So, what do ya say?”

“Well, Sam won’t be back for like three days-”

“That’s alright, just the three of us will be fine! Why don’t you just have Cas fly you here at about 8 pm tomorrow?” 

Dean was surprised to find that he wasn’t against the idea. An escape from all the insanity, Sam, might be good, and Cas was the only one who wasn’t acting weird around him (excluding the usual weirdness of Cas’s personality). Then again, Garth was the opposite of sanity; but, he was entertaining, so Dean was in. 

“Sure, I don’t have anything else going on. We’ll meet you tomorrow.” 

“See ya!” Garth hung up, and Cas watched Dean with that adorable, squinty-eyed, tilted-head expression. 

“What did he want?” Cas asked. 

“Bring your floaties, Hot-wings, we’re going boating.” At first, after hearing it from Balthazar’s stupid mouth, Dean had hated the nickname. However, he discovered that the eyeroll Cas gave him everytime he used it was too good to resist. The angel gave him one of those eyerolls now, lighting Dean up inside. 

\----------

Cas brought them to the front door of the “Fizzles’ Folly”, and Dean did the honor of knocking on the door. It was a tad bit chilly, so Dean found himself rubbing his hands, praying Garth would open the door soon. The skinny little bastard eventually showed up.

“Dean and Castiel Winchester, it is so great to see you!” Garth pulled them in for bony hugs and ignored their stuttering about the last name. “Why don’t you follow me to the top of the boat?” He saw Dean quivering and added, “Don’t worry about the cold. Heat rises, doesn’t it?” 

“I think you’re mistaken ab-” 

“Right this way,” Garth said, interrupting Cas. They went through the main part of the boat, and the aroma of burnt food wafted through the air. The top of the boat didn’t seem too bad anymore. 

“Were you cooking?” Dean asked, sniffing to try and tell what it was. 

“Baking to be exact: cookies. It...didn’t work out,” Garth sighed. 

“I wouldn’t expect a werewolf to be frickin’ Rachael Ray, don’t worry about it man,” Dean said. Garth led them outside to a ladder, and brought them up to an open roof with a round patio table and three chairs. There was a single cooler which contained the beer. Garth, for some unfathomable reason, had hung fairy lights all over the rails. 

“Why don’t you boys get comfy. I have to go start the boat and bring it further onto the water,” Garth said. He didn’t wait for feedback. They were left alone to wallow in the sound of tiny waves and the rocking boat. 

“This is a little weird don’t you think?” Dean asked. He was starting to get cold feet. He hoped they weren’t about to be kidnapped. 

“No. Once we’re out on the river, when you have the influence of alcohol in your veins, and when we have a talker like Garth, it won’t be weird. Besides, I’m glad to see a body of water when I’m not drowning in it,” Cas said. He went over to lean over the railing. The lights hit his handsome visage in such a perfect way, Dean forgot how to breathe. To recover, Dean reached into the cooler. 

“As long as he doesn’t get out that damn sock puppet,” Dean said. He walked over and reclined against the rail, facing Cas. He wanted to see his uneven stubble and pretty eyes. He took a swing of the bitter drink, hoping it would warm him. It didn’t. In fact, the cold beer made it worse. He shuddered, and found it hard to hold the icey glass. 

“Are you still cold?” Castiel asked. 

“Just a little,” Dean huffed. 

“Here.” Cas peeled off his trenchcoat and tried giving it to Dean. As much as Dean wanted to take it, he couldn’t. It was too much for him, too much of a “chick-flick moment”. Too close to letting Cas know how he felt.

“Cas I, uh, appreciate the gesture, but I can’t.” 

“Why not? I won’t experience the cold. I don’t want you to freeze, Dean,” Cas said, so eager to make sure he was comfortable. 

“Because, that’s not really something people who are  _ just friends  _ do,” he said. If he had to be any more literal, he would throw himself into the water from the embarrassment. 

Cas got it. “Oh.” He didn’t care. Cas wrapped the coat around Dean’s shoulders, engulfing him in it’s warmth. Dean’s heart melted. He’d always wondered what it was like for the girls in their boyfriend’s varsity jacket; how secure, and loved, it made them feel; how it was to smell them wherever they went. Now, he knew. 

“Cas…” he whispered. The spur of the engine ruined the moment. Dean grasped the metal bar as the boat lurched forward. Garth drove the boat to the middle of the river. The glow of the city was visible, but so was the dark bank on the opposite side. Cas had been right. It was better out on the water. The only sound was the gentle wind, the hum of the boat, and the occasional waterbird. What he saw didn’t matter. Not when Castiel was there. He was at peace. 

“So, how does angel temperature work? You can feel intense heat, but you can’t feel cold?” Dean asked. 

“If you’re referring to the incident in the library, I’m afraid I can’t give you an explanation. That was incredibly strange. It takes powerful magic to make an angel’s body temperature change,” Cas explained. 

“But we were the only ones there,” Dean replied. 

“Exactly. Strange.” 

“God, this whole month has been strange. I feel like no one, not even Sam has been acting normal. What the hell was that whole thing with Rowena? And the Ghostfacers? Bobby too!” Dean pondered. 

“Ruby, Meg, Balthazar, Gabriel, all of them.” Cas added. 

Dean nodded in agreement. “And I feel like they’re all focusing on us, here. They all seem to think-” 

“We have feelings for each other,” they said in unison. Dean searched his eyes, and Cas searched his. Dean knew they were both looking for excuses to deny the truth, but at the same time they wanted to lean in and have their first kiss. Dean was literally wearing Castiel’s coat, would it be so bad to have an official start to this thing? He had to decide which would hurt worse: waking up in twenty years with Cas dead, never knowing what they could have had, or loving him to the fullest extent, then having him ripped away like everyone he’d ever cared for in life.

“Maybe,” Cas said. “They aren’t so crazy.” 

Dean thought back to his conversation with Bobby. “Someone recently told me I don’t allow myself happiness even when it’s right in front of me. I think-no I know, he was right. A part of me is terrified that somehow, I’ll ruin this for us. I don’t want to lose you, Cas. What if it goes wrong somewhere down the road and you never wanna’ see me again?” 

“Dean,” Cas said, smiling with crinkles in his eyes. “I don’t believe that’s going to happen.” Dean grinned back, and his eyes fell to Castiel’s lips. Was this where they kissed? He’d never felt so hesitant, so girly about a fucking kiss before. He set down his beer, and caressed Cas’s warm cheek. He closed his eyes, leaned in, pterodactyls flew around his stomach: not butterflies. 

*CRASH* 

“Ow, ow! Shit! Fuck! My arm!” 

Dean cussed to himself as they abandoned their activity to go see what all the ruckus was about. So close, so god damn close. Garth laid at the bottom of the ladder, clutching his arm in pain. 

“What the hell man? What happened? Are you alright?” Dean asked. 

“So close! I was so god damn close!” Garth yelled. “Just ignore me and go back to what you were doing! Please! Or else I waited all this time for nothing!” 

“Hold on, were you watching us?” Cas inquired with a twisted expression. 

“Agh! Just a little, but I have a good reason! I wasn’t creeping around for kicks!” Garth insisted, like that made it any better. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ dude?!” Dean shouted. He was alright with leaving him down there. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t kill me I’m sorry!” Garth shielded his face in fear. 

“We’re not going to kill you.” Cas teleported down the ladder, and laid a hand on his arm. “If you want me to heal this, tell me what’s going on.” 

“No, I’d rather have a sprained wrist than be purple. How would I explain it to my friends at the nursing home?”

“Why would you turn purple?” Cas asked. 

“I can’t say! Or I’d turn purple!” Garth exclaimed. Dean was officially done.

“You know what Cas, I’ve had enough of this. Let’s go home,” Dean said. He climbed down the ladder, Cas touched his arm, and they zapped back to the bunker. 


	11. Sam's Had Enough

“Hey Dean.” Sam stood in his doorway with an oddly emotionless expression. “We’re going to a wedding tomorrow. I recommend you pick out the best tux you own.” He tried to leave without explanation, but Dean stopped him. 

“Hold on Sammy!” He hurried over and grasped his shoulder. “A little more information please. Who’s wedding is it? Where is the wedding? Should I pack an overnight bag?” 

“The wedding is for uh, Mike and Ellie, that hunter couple from Indiana. We drank with them at the Roadhouse a few times,” Sam said. “It’s in Illinois, and yes, I would recommend bringing an overnight bag. About two week’s worth of clothing.” 

“Wha-two weeks?! Are we going on their honeymoon too?” 

“Just do it Dean. I have to go tell Cas.” Sam yanked himself free, and disappeared around the corner. 

\-----------

“Sam. You’re scaring me. You haven’t spoken this entire ride.” Somehow, Sam had forced Dean into the passenger's seat. He was tense, and driving with a deadpan face. In a way, he reminded Dean of Soulless Sam. It was like he had finally...cracked, or something. What had broken him, Dean had no fucking clue. Cas shrugged at Dean in the rearview mirror, he was concerned for Sam too. 

“And, where are we? Which town in Illinois are we going to?” Dean asked.

“Pontiac. We’ll be there any second now.” 

“So he speaks.” Then, Dean went silent. Pontiac, Illinois: the place where he’d first laid eyes on Castiel. 

“But we’re in the middle of nowhere Sam. How can there be a wedding?” Cas questioned. Sam didn’t answer. He pulled over to the side of the road, and parked. 

“Get out of the car,” Sam ordered. Dean was really starting to worry. Had he been possessed? 

“Sam are you alright?” He asked. 

“I’m fine. Get out of the car.” Sam climbed out without explanation. Dean and Cas exchanged nervous glances, but since Sam wasn’t driving anymore, there was nothing else to do. Once they were outside, Sam began walking, and waved for them to follow. 

“Sam!” Dean shouted. Out of nowhere, he was hit on the back of the head. In his brief moment of pain, whoever had ambushed him wrapped a blindfold around his eyes and restrained his hands. “Sam! Cas!” 

“Dean!” Castiel called back. “I’ve been blindfolded! Where are you?” 

“I’m blindfolded too. Sam!” 

“Shut up,” the woman behind him whispered. “We ain’t here to hurt you. Do as you're told so this can go smoothly.” Her voice was familiar, she sounded like Ellen Harvelle. 

“Ellen?” 

“In the flesh. Now get moving boy.” She took him by the shoulders, and guided him down the road. 

“Don’t tell me this is part of the wedding,” Dean said. 

“It wasn’t our idea,” Jo said somewhere in the distance. She must have blindfolded Cas. 

“Whose was it? If it was Mike, I swear I’ll kill that son of a bitch,” Dean asked.

“No, it was neither of them. You’ll figure it out soon enough.” Ellen said. He was made to turn a corner. Then, he was forced off the road onto grass. Dean trusted Ellen, that she wasn’t lying when she said they weren’t going to hurt them, but he was thinking of ways to get out of there. He never got the chance. He felt concrete under his feet, and soon after, he heard the slam of large doors. 

“A few feet more,” Ellen said. She forced him a few more steps, manhandled him into a specific position, and she was gone. 

“Bobby, if you will.” Sam’s voice was near, in fact, he was inches away. Bobby tore the blindfold from Dean’s face. He prepared for overwhelming lights, but no such thing happened. He was met with the golden glow of string-lights and candles. Bobby was dressed fancy. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a tuxedo. 

Sam was to Dean’s right. He had no blindfold. He stood underneath a white, flowery arch, and held a binder in his hands. He looked like a wedding officiant.

Dean looked to his right, and gasped. They were in The Barn. The one with all the sigils and broken lights. The one where Dean discovered angels were real. The most important barn in the entire world. There were rows of white chairs, and each one was filled. Crowley, Garth, Meg, Ruby, Balthazar, Gabriel, Gordon, Benny, Mercury, The Ghostfacers, Michael, Lucifer, Rowena, Charlie (who were both still purple), even God himself was in attendance: he was in the front row.

Across from Dean, was Castiel. He was just as confused as Dean. Mike and Ellie were nowhere to be seen. If anything, this was  _ their  _ wedding. Dean was about to smack Sam and ask him what was happening, but he was too slow. 

“Hello, friends, acquaintances: Crowley. We are gathered here today to witness the union of Dean Winchester and Castiel in holy matrimony. I have spent the last two weeks getting ordained online, and I have spent the last five years witnessing these two men fall for each other, literally.” Sam pointed to Castiel.  To say Dean’s soul left his body was an understatement. He was going to do it for real this time: he was going to murder Sam. He looked to Cas with wide eyes, both of them were too shocked to say anything. 

“Everyone here has one thing in common: they all believe in your love. Now, since neither of you prepared vows, I changed the ceremony a little. Instead of vows, I have compiled a list of moments I have been forced to endure through the years. Get comfortable, because this is a long list. These are all things that have come out of your mouths, or things you’ve done.” He coughed, and began to read his list. 

“' _ Woah! Well he didn’t touch me there!’ _

_ ‘Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel.’ _

When I met Cas and Uriel for the first time on Halloween, Dean, you couldn’t keep your tongue in your mouth, and Cas wouldn’t leave your personal space. 

When Cas entered that barn looking for Anna and you stopped breathing. 

When you kissed Anna and Castiel got jealous. 

When Cas kicked me out of the hospital room to talk to you alone. 

When Cas came to you in a dream. __

_ ‘I serve heaven, I don’t serve man. And I certainly don’t serve you.’ _

When Cas rebelled against heaven for you. 

The sexual tension when Cas came to get the amulet from you, dear god I almost left the room. 

That whole story about catching Raphael.

The whoopie cushion. 

When Gabriel called Cas a _ ‘pretty boy angel’  _ and you thought about it too hard. 

You threatened to deep fry Gabriel to get Cas back the exact same day. __

_ ‘OK huggy bear, just don’t lose him.’  _

_ ‘He’s tough for a little nerdy dude with wings’  _

When we were after Famon, examining the heart and Dean called Cas on the phone.

In the same morgue, Dean don’t lie, you were turned on when Cas gave that speech about killing the rogue cupid. 

_ ‘You know what, blow me Cas.’  _

_ ‘Well Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.’  _

_ ‘You are not the burnt, broken shell of a man I believed you to be.’ _

_ ‘Aw, ain’t he a little angel-’”  _

He would have kept going if Bobby, who was behind Dean, didn’t stop him. “Hey, Sam, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I think you should wrap this bit up,” he mumbled. 

“Alright, I’ll read the biggest ones and then be done:

_ ‘Dean and I do share a more profound bond.’ _

_ ‘Cas, get out of my ass! I was never in your-’.  _

_ ‘Without your powers you’re just a baby in a trench coat.’ _

__ Everything about Purgatory. Everything. 

Now, there are many more little things that I don’t have the time to talk about: the copious amounts of eye sex, the teenage level angst, the dumbass flirting, the staring when the other isn’t looking, the whole shabang. Now that I’m done with that, it’s time to get to the next part, the rings. Ring bearers, would you please hand them the five dollar plastic rings from Walmart?” Ellen and Jo placed the cheap “jewelry” in their palms. Dean and Cas stared at each other, jaws gaped. They still had no idea how to react to everything happening. 

“Now, with  _ God  _ as your witness,” Sam gestured to Chuck. “Dean, do you take Castiel as your lawfully wedded husband?” Dean finally snapped out of his trance. 

“Sam, do you realize how fucking crazy this is?!”

“Yeah,” Cas agreed. “If Dean and I want to get married, it will be our choice.” 

“Come on! You’re practically married already! I have to do this for you because you’ve denied it, and you’ll continue to deny it unless somebody else steps in! It seems like the only option is to throw you a surprise wedding, something I’ve been working very hard on all month, mind you! We all know you have feelings for eachother, me especially! I deserve a fucking medal for putting up with you guys! The car rides, the dinners, the petty arguments, the nights all three of us have to stay in a motel! Dean, do you know how many fucking stupid, provocative jokes have come out of your mouth since you’ve met Cas? It was bad before but now… Cas, do you know how many times you’ve been centimeters from Dean? Dude, get a ruler! I’ve had enough! Just put the fucking rings on and kiss!” Dean had never seen Sam so exasperated, so exhausted, but he was pissed at his brother, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Even when the audience started clapping at Sam’s outburst, Dean and Cas wouldn’t cave. 

“You know what, Cas and I are leaving. This is insane. You are all insane.” They chucked their rings at Sam, and stormed down the aisle. 

“Dean!” Bobby called, but Dean didn’t answer. They left the barn to find the Impala parked outside. Rage flared in Dean’s chest. Somehow, somebody had snuck out during the ceremony and painted “JUST HITCHED” on the back window. Cans were tied to the trunk. 

“I am going to kill that bitch,” Dean growled. 


	12. Victory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last chapter, and I just wanted to say thank you for reading! This was a blast to write, and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did creating it.

“Chuck, can you find out where they went?” Sam asked. They had been searching the nearby roads for over thirty minutes. There was no sign of Cas, Dean, or the Impala. Sam felt stupid when he remembered they had the literal creator of everything at their disposal. 

“Am I God or what? Yes.” He closed his eyes, and moments later, smiled. “There’s a McDonalds at the next exit. They went there.” 

“All of us are interested to see the aftermath of this disaster. Why don’t you bring those who can’t teleport there?” Crowley said. Chuck didn’t even answer. One moment they were outside the barn, the next, in front of the Golden Arches. Sam glanced around the parking lot for the Impala. It was impossible to miss, what, with the cans and paint and all. Dean and Castiel were impossible to miss too. Dean had Cas pressed against the Impala, and they were making out like horny teenagers. Sam was filled with elation. Had he done it? Had he won the Suppirittoshia?! 

“Aw! Look at them!” Charlie said, her eyes melting with fondness. 

“I literally want to gauge my eyes out with spoons,” Balthazar gagged. 

“Who cares about them. Did Sam win or not?” Ruby asked. There was only one way to find out. Sam, overcome with exuberance, ran up to the new couple with excited eyes. 

“Dean! Cas!” He exclaimed. Dean glared daggers at him, and Cas looked like he’d been caught in some depraved act. Sam didn’t care. “What happened? Did I convince you?!” 

“Fuck. Off.” Dean grumbled. 

“Answer me! For the love of god answer me!” They didn’t answer him. Dean flipped the bird, and turned to Cas. “Let’s find a motel or something.” 

“Absolutely.” With that, they disappeared, leaving nothing but the car. 

“Shit!” Sam yelled, chucking his officiant binder to the ground. 

“So?” Lucifer asked as the entire group approached. 

“I don’t know! They didn’t give me an answer!” Sam explained. 

“What did you expect? You can’t just cockblock someone and expect them to be happy about it,” Gabriel said. 

“Tell you what. It’s late, us humans need rest. Why don’t we meet at the Bunker on say, Friday, to find out the results,” Bobby suggested. 

“Sounds good. See you then,” Sam huffed. 

\--------------

It was a mystery. Sam had gone home, and unable to resist his curiosity, he looked in the safe. The contract, every last molecule, had been reduced to ash. No name remained, unlike what Crowley had said would happen. Sam was still insistent he had won, because well, they had made out after  _ his  _ wedding. The others were not so keen to just give up without solid clarification Sam had done it. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ you did the spell right?” Rowena asked. 

“Positive. The fact is, Sam did not win, if he had his name would not have burned up with the rest of the contract,” Crowley explained. 

“Then who won if not me? No one else’s name was saved either!” 

“They were gone for thirty minutes! Who the hell knows what happened, a frog could have done it and we wouldn’t know,” Garth said. 

“It was not a frog. It was not Sam. It was none of you.” Everyone turned towards the quiet, yet attention-grabbing voice, and saw Death on the stairs to the library. “I got Castiel and Dean together.” It got quiet. Nobody knew what to say to that. Death? Death was the winner? How could that possibly be? He never even known about the contest, and he was the last person Sam would have expected to even care. 

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why? How? And I’ll explain. You see, those binoculars you call Supirittoshia are mine. My reapers built them five thousand years ago. In the hands of any of you fools, even God, it would be disastrous. Before I caught word they had been found, this game of yours had already begun. I admit, it would have been easier to simply steal it from you Sam, but, ever since a certain somebody…” he eyed Lucifer. “Raised me from my grave, I’ve been a bit bored. This competition was just a bit of fun to watch and to participate in.” 

“But how? No offense, but I wouldn’t exactly peg you for Mr. Matchmaker,” Bobby said. 

“Why don’t I show you.” Death snapped his fingers, and they all stood in the McDonalds. Dean and Cas sat in a booth, dressed to the nines. Cas watched Dean with amorous eyes as he wolfed down twenty chicken nuggets. 

“Dean, if you don’t slow down you’ll choke,” Cas warned. 

“Sorry, I’m a bit hangry right now. You wanna’ try one?” Dean tried handing him a piece.

“I thought I told you, food tastes like molecules to me,” Cas reminded him. 

“Maybe this will be different. Try it, please. We  _ are _ on our honeymoon,” Dean pouted, and Cas rolled his eyes, but gave in. 

“So?” Dean rested his head on his hands, and looked at Cas with shiny, love filled eyes. It was clear, as Cas chewed like a sloth, that he tasted nothing but chemicals, but he lied to humor Dean. 

“It’s not terrible,” Cas said. 

Dean beamed ear-to-ear. “You’re such a bad liar, Hot-wings.” As he continued eating, an old woman hobbled up to their table on crutches. 

“I’m sorry if this is too forward,” the old woman said in a shaky voice. “But you boys make a lovely couple. You remind me of my husband and I before he passed away. It’s always better to die after a life full of love, than life full of regret, that’s what I told myself before I married him.” 

“Oh, we aren-” Cas began to say. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Dean cut him off, reached out, and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Cas looked at him, shocked, but delighted. 

“Don’t be sorry, dear. He lived a happy life with no regrets, that’s something to celebrate.” With that she left the building. 

“Dean,” Cas said. “She’s gone now. You don’t have to pretend to spare her feelings anymore.” 

“Who said I was pretending?” Dean asked with a nonchalant shrug, but bright eyes. Cas’s face melted into a fond smile, and he began to rub circles on the back of Dean’s hand. 

“I apologize if this is too early, but, I love you, Dean.” 

“Five years is too early? I love you too, Cas.” 

Death snapped his fingers, and the illusion ended. “You see,” he said. “That elderly woman was merely a hallucination powered by my magic. You all know the truth. Now, I will be taking what’s mine, and I hope our paths do not cross again anytime soon.” He took the Supirittoshia from the table, and he was gone. Sam felt defeated, _what an anticlimatic end,_ he thought. 

“Woh, I didn’t realize we were having a party.” Dean strolled into the Map Room. He wore his robe, and he walked with a slight limp. Sam, unfortunately, had been up all night, forced to listen to the cause of that limp. 

“Dean,” Cas emerged wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. Every jaw dropped. Up until then, nobody had seen Cas so naked. “The coffee is finished, and yes, I used the instructions you wrote me. There’s more than one tablespoon of grounds.” He didn’t take notice of everyone watching him. He came up behind Dean, wrapped his arms around his waist, and buried his face into his neck. 

“Cas, not now,” Dean whispered. Cas turned his head, and when he saw how many people were in the library, he went ghastly white. Gabriel and Lucifer couldn’t keep straight faces, Michael was blushing like crazy, Balthazar was disgusted, and God seemed indifferent. That didn’t matter to Cas. 

“Father!” He used Dean to shield the onlookers from his bare chest. 

“I take it this is our cue to leave,” Chuck said to the other angels. 

“And miss the show?” Lucifer managed to say, holding back laughter. 

“That’s it. You’re going in your cage for a day, young man.” Chuck grasped Satan’s neck, and the two of them disappeared. The other angels remained.

“So, why is everyone and their sister here?” Dean asked. With Cas’s dad gone, they felt comfortable holding hands and walking into the library. 

“Just catching up,” Gordon lied. Cas sat in one of the chairs at an empty table.

“I feel like that ain’t the truth. But now that all of you are here, it might be a good time to discuss who gets those weird binoculars, you know, that Superoshia thing,” Dean said before unabashedly sitting in Castiel’s lap. 

“Oh, well, they’re gone,” Sam explained. 

“Gone? How is that possible?” Cas asked. 

“Turns out they belonged to Death. He came and took them back,” Sam explained. The truth wouldn’t hurt, not if the rest of it was left out. 

“Damn, I really liked those things. Made everything so much easier. Oh well, they’re not worth hunting Death over,” Dean said. He got distracted by one of Cas’s scars, and bit his lip. It was clear to all of them things were about to go downhill. 

“I think I better get going. Nice seeing you Dean, Cas. Sorry about the boat, again,” Garth waved goodbye and scurried towards the stairs. Gordon followed in silence. 

“Us too,” said Ed from the Ghostfacers. “Ghosts to hunt.” 

“Drive safe, and next time you visit, please, please call first,” Sam said.

“Where’d you get that, Cas?” Dean asked, stroking the scar. 

“Van Ice, California. You watched me carve it.” Why? Why was what he said so sexually charged? The rest of the angels vanished the moment he finished talking. 

“They have the right idea,” Meg said. She and Ruby followed in league. 

“I hope Garth hasn’t left the garage yet,” Benny said once Dean began to run his fingers through Cas’s hair. He sprinted from the room. One by one, they were abandoning Sam to suffer, he would do anything to keep Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Charlie there: even Crowley could stay if it meant Sam didn’t have to go to his room and put on headphones. 

“I made pancakes, if anyone wants to go to the kitchen,” Sam offered. 

“Sorry Moose. I’d rather be anywhere but here,” Crowley shot him a sarcastic smirk, took their bottle of scotch, and vanished. 

“The road home is long,” Ellen said. 

“Yeah, I have to leave now if I want to catch the Days of Our Lives reruns,” Bobby said. Dean and Cas had forgotten common decency, and were kissing like no one else was there. 

“Charlie! Please don’t leave me!” Sam begged as she collected her purse. 

“Sorry Sam,” She whispered before following the others. Moments later, he was left to put up with this misery by himself. He was starting to regret even bringing up the contest, when Dean peeked one eye open. 

“Are they all gone?” He asked Sam. 

“Yeah. Your disgusting PDA chased away our company,” Sam grumbled. 

“That was the plan Sammy. We don’t want all those angels and demons milling about when we’re trying to eat pancakes, do we? Come on Cas, let’s go have breakfast in peace and quiet.” The boyfriends left their chair and followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen. Cas kissed Dean’s cheek, and they turned the corner hand in hand. Sam sighed in relief. They were in love and happy in the way they deserved. There would be no more sad, desperate, pining. 

The friendly competition had been worth it. 


End file.
